Partner: A Collection
by Pretzelcoatl
Summary: Persona 4. A collection of short stories connected with each other, all focused on a certain gray-haired boy and his dorky, headphones-wearing partner.
1. That One Kid With The Hair

Hi y'all. Mister Peaches here.

This was written before I even completed Persona 4. There are three continuations of this story, and a lot of them might be rendered not in-canon, or make no sense. If something seems wrong, you're probably right. But I hope it isn't too distracting.

Enjoy!__

* * *

_**That One Kid With The Hair**_

* * *

Morooka-sensei was, once again, lecturing the class, and Yosuke was, once again, not paying attention. Lately, he had been questioning the real value that an education would have for him, as adolescents often will. His old man would just put him in some dead-end job at Junes, he figured, so what was the point of taking philosophy? Besides, it's not like King Moron actually ever _taught _them anything. The entire class was just one big lecture about the teens of today, with the occasional useless Socrates or Descartes quote sprinkled between the profanities. It was also equally frustrating that he was sent home with an assignment he couldn't finish, because Morooka was too busy ranting over stupid shit he can't control that he couldn't do what he was paid to do!

Yosuke found it hard to believe there were people getting actual good grades in the damn class, but there were. A fine specimen of such a student sat right in front of him, quietly bearing Morooka-sensei's long-winded nonsense. _Souji, _thought Yosuke, _is there anything you DON'T do well? I mean, just look at your hair!_

Yes, Souji's hair was a great source of envy among young men and women alike at Yasogami High. Every day, without fail, Souji attended school with his thick head of gray hair in impeccable shape. He managed to make a color normally attributed to the elderly look refreshing and stylish—and boy, was he admired for it. Sitting behind that glorious, glistening pewter hair every day sent Yosuke into fits of nearly uncontainable jealousy.

He ran his hand through the brown mop perched atop his cranium. Unsurprisingly, it was caught in the "rat's nest" his father often picked on him for. He attempted to work out the knots with his fingers.

"Hanamura!" barked Morooka-sensei, pelting some unfortunate students in the front row with saliva. "Why did Descartes become a lawyer?"

"U-uh…"

"If you weren't so intent on preening yourself like some conceited canary," Morooka snarled, "_maybe _you could've given me the correct answer! Of course, I can't expect much from an idiot like _you! _Maybe your _boyfriend_ could actually say something intelligent!"

Snickers were heard from a corner of the room.

"M-my what?"

"Your boyfriend, you _fag_!" Morooka hissed, the homophobic slur crawling down Yosuke's throat. The kid who was chuckling before could hardly contain his howls now. Two girls a few desks away twittered to each other concernedly, glancing at him with unbearably pitiful eyes. Someone gasped.

"I… I don't know who you're—"

"Oh, could you just _try _not to be such a moron? You know who I'm talking about! That one kid with the hair!" He jerked his head to Souji, who was looking understandably baffled with the whole situation. "You know why Descartes became a lawyer don't you? Or should I just give up on you retards right now?"

Souji cleared his throat, wide-eyed. "U-uh… his father urged him to."

Morooka scowled. "Well, wasn't _that _a lucky guess. Be sure to make sure your little ass slave manages to do his homework tonight. You! In the back! Calm the fuck down! This isn't the goddamn Laugh Factory!"

Yosuke nestled his face between his arms and pretended he didn't exist.

* * *

A lot of the other students in his homeroom, especially the girls, were unnaturally kind to Yosuke that day. They would walk up with these sickening looks of pity on their faces, speaking in soft, saccharine tones that could rot your teeth. "I'm so sorry, Yosuke-kun!" "You should report him to the principal!" "Are you sure you're okay?"  
All this attention was more of an act of guilt than actual care, Yosuke observed. _They probably just felt like it was their duty to pretend to be nice to me so they could feel like they were really fuckin' special_. _Any other day they wouldn't give a shit about me. _

Yosuke also noted a suspicious lack of his "friends".

He leaned against the wall and grunted. How stupid was he to think that he could really rely on Chie and Yukiko and everyone else. He was just a punching bag for Chie. Comic relief for Yukiko. A human shield for Souji. His head started to pound from all of the stress.

_Then again, I haven't done that much for them. They've saved my ass countless times… they probably want nothing to do with me. _

… _Still. What I wouldn't have given for Souji to save my ass again._

He felt something firm press down on his head and ruffle his hair.

"That hurts…"

"It does?"

"Yes, it fucking hurts, I said that…" he looked up, to find nothing other than Souji, hopefully coming to save his ass. The fact that he was smiling made Yosuke tense up in rage.

"You know what else hurts?" Souji said, removing his hand from Yosuke's tangled mane.

"Me about to punch you in your pretty face?"

"Nope." Souji's expression softened. "Seeing you like this."

"If it hurts you so frickin' much," Yosuke mumbled angrily, "You would've said something to defend my sorry ass back there."

"Yosuke, listen…"

Yosuke's arms and hands suddenly became very animated. "No! You're so goddamn perfect all the damn time. Everyone loves you, you get excellent grades, you have the ability to use every-single-fucking-Persona, and yet you couldn't stand up for me, just once? It's ridiculous."

"Just listen to me! I wanted to apologize." He put a hand on Yosuke's shoulder. Yosuke flinched from the contact. "… Yosuke. You're shaking."

"No shit, Sherlock!"

Souji leaned forward, so that it appeared that he was towering over Yosuke's shrinking frame. "Listen Yosuke, there's no reason for you to be such an asshole!" he suddenly shouted. The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. Souji sighed. "I understand why you're angry, Yosuke. I wanted to hang out with you, after school, to make up for what happened and help you get your mind off of it for a while."

Yosuke's heart sank into his stomach.

"I… ah… alright. S-sorry…"

Souji softened once more, smiling. He patted Yosuke's shoulder and turned to leave. "I'll see you after school, okay? Try to make it till then." He gave him a sympathetic look, and left for his next class. Unlike the other looks everyone else was giving him, this one didn't make Yosuke want to vomit.

* * *

As promised, Souji and Yosuke ended up at Souzai Daigaku after an awkward, silent walk. The heavy clouds hung menacingly over the whitewashed shopping district, making everything seem a hell of a lot more gray than it already was. A freezing breeze had just picked up. Nearby, two stern looking women chatted against the backdrop of a shop, closed down with the recent arrival of a certain superstore. Yosuke always had a pretty good sense of hearing (probably because he had to hear orders screamed from one end of Junes on noisy afternoons at work), and could hear their hushed exchange.

"There…again."

"How…manage…show his face?"

"I don't… ugh, is he looking at us?"

The women turned their backs and lowered their voices.

"What's the matter, Yosuke? You look pale."

Yosuke's head snapped up. "N-nothing. I'm just… getting goose bumps." He rubbed his arm nervously.

"The wind is pretty cold out here, isn't it?" Souji stated. "Well, maybe your croquette will warm you up."

"It… isn't the wind." Yosuke glanced momentarily at the women, who were glaring at him with such malice that even Souji shivered a little.

"… Yosuke, do you want to come home with me?

Yosuke blinked at the strange wording of the inquiry. Glancing at the women again, he agreed, albeit shakily. Souji stood up, and started to leave; noticing that Yosuke hadn't gotten up yet, he stopped. "What's wrong?"

Yosuke got up, smiled, and shook his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bizarre frog-shaped wallet—and produced a fair amount of yen from it. He handed it to Souji.

"Wha—"

"Well, I didn't touch the food, so I figured that it would be fair to pay you back." He winked and smiled, in the usual fashion. Souji couldn't help but join in. Together, they walked, and everyone's disapproving stares just didn't seem to matter anymore.

* * *

"I'm home!" Souji shouted as he entered the Dojima residence, startling little Nanako, who had been engrossed in the television as always.

"Big brooooo!" she cried, "I told you not to do that!"

"Hey, it wouldn't scare you so bad if you weren't hypnotized by that television all the time!"

"It's just a cool show- Yosuke!" Suddenly, with Yosuke's entrance, the quarrel between Nanako and Souji was forgotten. Nanako bounded up to Yosuke. "Are we going to Junes today?"

Seeing all that childish hope in her eyes made Yosuke very reluctant to say no. "U-uh…"

"Sorry Nanako, I'm afraid we can't… we'll go some other time, okay?"  
Nanako sighed, nodded, and trudged back to her favorite floor pillow.

"Sorry about that, Yosuke. She gets so worked up about going to Junes, she talks about it all the time…"  
Yosuke gulped, his eyes darting around the room. "It's-it's fine." _Why am I getting so anxious? I've been in his house before… _Yosuke's mind kept swimming as he followed Souji up the stairs. _It's weird. He's great around everyone. He doesn't get flustered when put on the spot, like I do… _He grimaced at the steps at front of him. _I get it. I'm jealous. _

"Earth to Yosuke." He suddenly noticed a hand waving around in front of his eyes. Watching the quick motion of Souji's hand made Yosuke quickly remember his headache. He squeezed the pressure point between his eyebrows and nodded. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice that they had reached the second floor already…

"Ugh, sorry, my head hurts like hell."

Souji laughed a little—even a little noise was enough to make Yosuke wince. "No wonder you've been so out of it!" his face faulted suddenly. "Oh, sorry." Souji pushed the door to his room open. "Just stay in here, watch T.V. or something. I'll go downstairs and see if we have something for headaches."  
"Thanks," Yosuke grunted, and unenthusiastically shuffled in. The muted colors of Souji's room were a welcome sight for the throbbing receptors behind his gradually blurring brown eyes. He literally fell onto the sofa, not caring that he looked like an absolute tool with his limbs falling ungracefully onto the floor. He wasn't a graceful person. Souji was.

Not bothering to move too much from his surprisingly comfortable position, he attempted to throw his hand to the table to fish for the remote like he always did at home. He had underestimated the distance he had to reach from the couch and, thus, ended up landing painfully on his left shoulder.

"Hey-um, Yosuke, you alright?"

"'M fine." He flung his arm onto the couch and attempted to lift himself up.

"Then why are you on the floor?" Souji asked, much like a mother would when seeing her child doing something absurd.

"'Said 'm fine." Yosuke found it harder and harder to move… everything he tried to do to regain his footing ended up with him pathetically slumping back onto the rough carpet.

"Yosuke, get a hold of yourself." Something grasped him by the arms, pulling him upwards. He felt himself relax against a soft cushion, his head falling against something that was cushioned as well. His brain screamed. All he could see was this big, gray blur hanging over him, and it was saying something he couldn't understand…

"Yosuke! Yosuke… I have a pill right here that's gonna help with the headache, okay? You'll feel better, just swallow this for me…"

He didn't really understand, but he tried to take the pill… he coughed, and choked, and nearly drowned when water was forced in to help him take it. But, it eventually went down. The pain dulled slightly, and his vision cleared a little… to see a really panicked Souji standing over him.

"Dear God, are you sick or something? You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Souji sputtered, rubbing his neck in anxiety.

"I-I dunno…" Yosuke whispered, quite truthfully actually.

Souji fell to the seat next to Yosuke, breathing a sigh of relief. Yosuke's head lolled to the side to look at him. Souji rubbed his forehead.

"I think I know what happened. You must have had one hell of an anxiety attack… what was going on in that head of yours?"

"I… dunno." Yosuke repeated, still just as truthful as before.

"Well…" Souji huffed. "We have no choice but to wait and see if you have another one. Just try to relax for now…" He achingly reached forward, using that elusive remote to turn on the television. They were playing some old movie from decades ago… some guy in a space suit was floating through the halls of some space station, while some eerily calm voice playing from the speakers repeatedly asked him to stop… Yosuke still couldn't understand much, but from what he could gather… the movie was really, really tedious. Even Souji was starting to shift around in his seat.

"Stop it, Dave… Stop it Dave." The computer's voice from the movie cooed.

"What the hell is this?" Souji said, his eyebrow cocked. "Looks American."

Yosuke strained to look at the flickering picture on the television. He was so exhausted that he couldn't hold his head up, so he resorted to leaning on Souji's shoulder for support, so incoherent that he didn't entirely realize what he was doing. Souji didn't seem to mind; in fact, he leaned his head on Yosuke's in turn after some hesitation.

Yosuke awoke to the light of an orange afternoon sun gleaning into his eyes from between the parting clouds. His head still buzzed horribly, but at least he had the mental clarity to realize whom he had been sleeping on. Yosuke felt his ears burn.

The movie had long since ended; now some weird thing about cowboys hugging had taken its place. The sheer length and lack of interesting content must have put Souji to sleep… but why did Souji let Yosuke sleep on him in such a position? They were just friends, after all.

But still, after all that Souji had done for him, he felt like it would be best to let him sleep.

As you can imagine, it has to be monotonous to stay in one position for a long position of time, so Yosuke had to come up with things to keep himself mentally occupied, since the movie brought up way too many personal epiphanies that he'd rather not deal with at that moment. Yosuke's mind drifted from one topic to the next—from Saki-sempai to Morooka to the TV world to Shadows to Morooka's homophobia back to Saki-sempai and then arriving, oddly, at the impeccable state of Souji's hair.

_Why is it so soft? He has to use a metric shitload of gel on it… _

He mentally likened it to a helmet. He imagined a Shadow launching itself at Souji, who bends down and blocks the attack with his hair. Yosuke couldn't contain himself.

Souji's eyes fluttered open, and lifted his head. Lazily, he mumbled, "Why're you laughing?"

"Oh, um, I was laughing at… the movie!"

Souji rubbed his eyes and looked at it. The woman, apparently the wife of the cowboy-hat wearing man, was screaming at him for being caught with another man.

"You were laughing at _that?_"

"Well, um, no, to be honest, I was—it's hard to explain…"

Souji smiled. "C'mon, at least try."

"Well, uh… your hair kinda… reminded me of a helmet, and, I thought how—" he snorted, and broke out into giggles. "Sorry, I—"

"You imagined me fighting a shadow with my hair, right?"

Yosuke guffawed. "Yes! How'd you know?"

"Chie thought the exact same thing."

Yosuke laughed harder. "Sorry, sorry, I hope I didn't offend you or something…"

Souji smiled even more. "Don't worry about it. I'm just happy to see you're feeling better."

Yosuke wiped a tear from his eye, and giggled a little. "Yeah… I certainly feel better. Thanks… and sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I was acting like an asshole because… I was jealous. You're just so talented, and together, and… I'm not."

In a startling gesture, Souji brought his arm around Yosuke, and squeezed his shoulder. "C'mon, don't say stuff like that…"

"Well, it's true!" Yosuke laughed. "I mean, just look at your hair!"

"Hey, it's not I was born with this! I had to work for this hair!" Souji was laughing too.

"Oh really?"

"Yes! Lemme show you."

Souji got up, and moved to the shelf in the northwest corner of the room. Peering into a box on the shelf, he retrieved a photograph-obviously an old one, because it was quite faded. Yosuke snickered again.

"What?" Souji said, through a smile. "Am I that strange looking?"

"No! It's… it's just so cute!" Yosuke exclaimed. The photo was of Souji; he must have been only six or seven years old in the shot, around Nanako's age. His hair was scraggly and looked unmanageable. Just like Yosuke's.

Suddenly, Yosuke's face faulted. "W-wait, maybe 'cute' isn't the right word for it—"

"Too late!"

"Dammit!"

"I'm gonna tell everyone at lunch you said I was cuuuute!"

"Nooo!"

Yosuke, grinning, launched himself at Souji, and pinned him in a hug.

"I'm not letting you!"

"Too bad!"

The two laughed uncontrollably. They heard the door click. Behind the door was Dojima, leaning in.

"Hey Souji, I came home early so I thought I'd let you—uh…" he observed the two grown boys hugging each other and pulling at each other's hair like five-year olds. They stopped when they noticed the puzzled older man.

"I, uh, yeah, just wanted to let you know…" He closed the door with a blank look on his face.

Yosuke and Souji looked at each other for a second, and then nearly died laughing.

Yosuke tried to calm down for a minute. "Oh God, he probably thinks we're… Hah!" He broke out into his fit again.

Souji, quite seriously, looked at him and said, "Well… aren't we?"

Yosuke suddenly stopped laughing. An innocent question, but it sure had a lot to think about behind it.

"I… I don't know." He flopped down on the ground, suddenly feeling a bit weak. Souji inexplicably joined him on the floor. "I… never really thought about it before." He looked at Souji. The look on his face was something he never really saw before on the usually strong young man. He looked serious, yet, somewhat disappointed, or anxious, in a way. His head started to turn again. He winced. "Augh… it hurts…"

Souji got up and walked a few steps over to sit next to him. He placed his hand on Yosuke's head, which caused Yosuke to blush furiously, which Souji didn't seem to notice. Souji gaped. "Holy crap, you're burning up! We should get you home, you're sick."

"I-I don't think that's it… I'm just a little tired, that's all." He rested his head on Souji's shoulder.

Souji hugged him protectively. "I really think we should get you home."

Yosuke smiled into his jacket. "I really think that I don't _want _to go home."

It was pretty obvious that Souji had his answer.


	2. And Miles To Go Before I Sleep

Wow, you guys seem to like this. I'm happy for that. :) So, here's the next part, which has been sitting here to rot on my computer for a long time. The other ones are done as well-I'm just waiting to see how they are received.

Have fun, and enjoy.

~Peaches__

_**

* * *

And Miles To Go Before I Sleep**_

* * *

_These shadow worlds are getting raunchier and raunchier, _thought Yosuke as he sat in the lobby of Rise's striptease venue, hand made by her own insecurities. Looking around, Yosuke had to wonder how bad Rise's suppressed feelings had to be for this place to be as gaudy and sensory overloading as it was. The color purple overall dominated the room, the heavy drapes and carpeting overwhelming the small area and kept the place poorly insulated, as Yosuke gauged from the amount of his own sweat he was sitting in. Artificial smoke and fog wafted in from the entrance, smothering the boy and making it difficult to breathe. Trashy techno music throbbed from some unknown source, the beat giving the place a sense of life, like it had its own heartbeat.

The chorus of the song emerged, sung breathily as though whispering. It gave Yosuke a good start, having been accustomed to sitting alone for the past hour and a half. Realizing it was only a part of the obnoxious tune, he scowled and sunk back down in his overly fluffed booth. He loosened the first few buttons from the top of his shirt, which was already starting to weigh from perspiration.  
_And I thought Kanji's was bad. Jesus…_

He looked over to the small fox perched across from him in his booth. The fox glanced at him for a moment. He twitched his tail in recognition.

"You think they're okay in there?" Yosuke asked, not expecting a satisfactory response. The music was so overpowering that he couldn't even hear what he had just said. It yipped, apparently trying to affirm that they were indeed fine. Yosuke remained unconvinced, and his stomach continued to twist.

Yosuke stared back at the silhouette of a lazily drawn iconographic heart shown through a spotlight operated by some anonymous technician. A part of Yosuke wanted to figure out who was running the various electronics in this place, but he was pretty sure that he wouldn't like what he saw; it'd be a Shadow, or it'd be working autonomously.  
_Speaking of Shadows… why the hell hasn't one just bounded through the entrance yet and killed me? It's wide open!  
_He sighed.

_There's things I'll never understand, I guess. Like how I haven't been taken inside one of these stupid places in forever. _

Indeed, Yosuke had been spending an awful lot of time waiting in the wings for an unknown reason, never explained by Souji, his leader, who was currently finding his way through Rise's bawdy labyrinth with Kanji, Chie, and Yukiko.

_Well, he has been a bit off lately. Wonder what's eating him. _

He leaned down on the table in front of him. Things have been quite odd now since that anxiety attack at Souji's house two weeks ago. After he had gone home and spent some time resting, he had gone back to school to find Souji swamped in incredible amounts of "personal business", as he had called it. Yosuke suddenly felt much warmer.  
He was originally going to chalk it up to confusion and anger, but when he saw the fox suddenly scramble from his seat and into a sheltered corner of the lobby, he felt something was amiss. Hot air was blowing down his back… something dripped into his hair, seeping through it into his face, running down his cheek and leaving a disgusting, slimy trail on his skin.

"You know how hard it is to wait hours for food, don't you…? I'm starving…"

That voice was terrible. It sounded forced. Horribly forced. Whatever had been throwing words at him wasn't meant to be doing such things. It wasn't made for human tongues. The room suddenly seemed ice cold despite the high temperature.

"_I've been waiting for hours for you to drop your guard…"_

Yosuke frantically slid from his seat. His forehead erupted in pain as he slammed it against the reinforced edge of the wooden table on his way down. Blinking through the tears, he squeezed into the corner between the wall and the pole holding the table up, this time having pounded the pole with his knee, shifting his body so that he now faced the place he used to sit. He snatched the kunai from his back pockets, holding them up across his face in a desperate attempt to defend himself. He shakily observed his predator from between the blades. His eyes couldn't seem to focus, but when they did, it made out what appeared to be the grinning, slobbering, red-lipped mouth of a Halberie. It licked its chops.

It spoke. _"I love it when they shake… it makes the muscles nice and tender… the sweat gives them a nice flavor, too…"_

Yosuke wanted to heave.

_"C'mon, give me just a little taste? Pretty please?" _

The Shadow's unnaturally long tongue snaked under the table, searching for him. It had just about reached his face when Yosuke, working his knives like a pair of scissors, dug into it, and, dreadfully, cut the tip clean off. Black blood spilled onto Yosuke's sleeves and torso. The Halberie screamed, rolling off the booth and writhing on the floor, its blood pooling around it, dying the carpet, contrasting sharply with the Halberie's harlequin patterns.

Something in Yosuke's head began to scream at him in a voice he instantly recognized, but in a tongue incomprehensible. Yosuke clawed at the floor, pulling himself next to the Halberie and onto his knees. A blue card emerged from the darkness, which Yosuke instinctively struck with his kunai. Above him, a red scarf whipped about his head, belonging to the origin of the voice he had heard—Jiraya. Jiraya lifted his arms, the metal stars on his hands spinning rapidly, and forcefully launched them to the wounded Halberie. It had been silenced. Jiraya faded right along with it.

"Fucking Halberies, wastes of—"  
Yosuke could not finish his thought as his arms and chest were set ablaze, or so it seemed. Yosuke howled as the blood that had been spilt on him before, which had been eating through the fabric during his ordeal, burned into his skin, a horrible scent filling his nose as the vital fluids of the monster melted through him like acid. He ripped the piece of clothing off, used it to wipe off the excess gore and then tossed it into the puddle of blood left by the slain Shadow, which was now searing through the carpet. His bare arms and chest still glowed painfully. He pulled himself against the wooden paneling separating one booth from another, and loosed a colorful string of curse words. The fox, just now coming out of hiding, sidled up next to him, giving him an apologetic wound licking. He forcefully pushed the small animal's snout away with his knuckles.

"Fuck you, that hurts!"

It stopped. It's ears pinned low against his head, as a sign of animalistic submission.

"You better be sorry… shit. You abandon me and then come up with those big ass eyes looking for some attention. You're just…"

Even though they hadn't been hit by the blood during the battle, Yosuke's eyes started to tingle and throb.

_Where are you?_

The familiar sound of footsteps reached Yosuke's burning ears, but he was too distracted to care. Energetic Chie, followed by a collected Souji, disgruntled Kanji and an indescribable Yukiko, stepped back into the lobby. Chie looked at Yosuke, and her nose crinkled.

"Damn, put a shirt on! Nobody wants to see that!"

No response.

"Um… Yosuke? Yosuke, I-I'm sorry, what happened?"  
Souji strode from behind Chie. He kneeled in front of Yosuke. The burned young man lifted his glazed eyes to the stoic one surveying him. He quickly averted his gaze, redirecting it to a particularly interesting fold in his pants, and bit his lip. Hard.

Souji stood and turned to his friends. "Um… he's fine. Listen, go back home. We'll do this again Tuesday."

Yukiko and Chie exchanged nervous glances, and Kanji nodded. A silent understanding had somehow been forged, and they left without another word, or even a glance. Once their footsteps faded, however, the silence was broken. Yosuke broke out into loud, aching sobs.

Souji didn't bother to ask anything. He noticed the raw, red wounds on his skin, the bloodied weapons clutched in his white-knuckled fists, the smoldering liquid on the floor. With an undeniable pang of guilt plaguing him as he took all of this in, he had compiled a decent understanding of what had happened. What confused him, though, was that Yosuke had no problem with fighting before, and yet here he was, a wailing wreck. There had to be something else.

Reaching out gently, not wanting to agitate any unknown injuries, Souji used the soft sleeve of his jacket to mop away the fat tears rolling down Yosuke's face. The attempt was pretty fruitless, as the tears continued without ceasing, even though the bawling had quieted, for the most part.

Desperately wanting to make all of this stop, Souji slid forward on his knees, between Yosuke's knees. He leaned forward, hovering over Yosuke's slumped, heaving, hiccupping frame. Souji gently lifted Yosuke's chin with his fingertips. Yosuke looked up at him, nervous, suppressing a whimper. Souji bent down, pressing his lips against the other young man's. Yosuke froze.

Souji's heart sank as he realized what he tasted. Blood.

He pulled back to look at Yosuke, who was now staring at another particularly interesting fold on his pants. Yosuke must have been biting his lip too hard and split it.

Suddenly, Yosuke's face flared. He looked up and Souji, and savagely enquired "**What the hell was that?**"  
Souji was dumbfounded.

"I can't believe you! You haven't even attempted to talk to me in days! You leave me sitting here all alone for hours while you run around doing who-knows-what in that hellhole over there—" He motioned towards the entrance. "—And then when I'm just about to go and kill myself or something you take advantage of that and cop a kiss off of me. What the hell! You're just—"

Yosuke shivered for a few moments, then returned to his sobs. Souji leaned forward again, gently wrapping his arms around Yosuke's neck, trying to avoid the visible burns on his arms and chest. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry…?" Yosuke choked.

"Everything. I guess I've kinda failed you. The reason I've been leaving you here is because I didn't want you getting hurt. But it looks like that did a lot more harm than good. And I've just been so busy at school… I can't prove that I'm telling the truth, but I assure you, I really do want to spend time with you, but I just never find the time."

Yosuke's face fell. He tiredly leaned his head against Souji's. "I get it. You're just trying to help. My bad…"

Souji smiled, relieved. "It's alright. You had a reason to be pissed." He laughed a little. "Besides, I was the one who kinda, uh, forced myself on you."

Yosuke couldn't help but smile. "That's a funny way of saying it." He also laughed a little. "You know what else is funny? Every time we do something like this, it's because I got hurt. I guess I'm pretty useless, huh…?"

Souji suddenly pulled away. He looked at Yosuke quite seriously.

"No," he said. The way he said it hit Yosuke like a ton of bricks. Souji sighed. "Although, I guess it's my fault. I've been keeping you here for so long, you probably fell behind…"  
Yosuke's mood sank yet again.

"N-no, I don't mean that you suck or anything! I mean, you took on a Shadow all by yourself, that's something!"

Souji sighed again. "I'm just gonna shut up before I say anything bad…"

"No, I understand what you said." Yosuke said.

Souji seemed surprised. "Oh… well, that's good." He coughed. He examined Yosuke's burns again. They were starting to blister and peel. "Oh, um, wow. We need to get those treated…"  
Yosuke looked at the wounds, slightly disgusted. "Yeah… but we can't go to the hospital or anything, they're gonna call Dad and he'll find out what happened to me."

"Oh… yeah." Souji said, downcast. Suddenly, his eyes brightened. "Hey, I took first aid for a while. I know how to treat burns," he said. "Maybe, we could do this. Let's get out of here, and call your parents, and ask them if you can stay at my house for the night. It's Saturday, after all…"

Yosuke seemed rather intimidated by the idea. "U-um…"

"Oh, and Dojima and Nanako are out of the house today, too. Dojima's doing overtime and Nanako is going to a friend's house. I'm sure Dojima will let you stay over if I sleep on the couch or something…"  
That added to Yosuke's anxiety.

Souji noticed his dinner-plate sized eyes. "Whoa, whoa! I'm not gonna do anything to you! Calm down!"

"Oh, um… sorry. A-alright. Let's do that."

Souji grinned slightly. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I think so." He unsteadily stood. He looked down to himself. "W-wait, I can't just walk out without a shirt… especially with all… this."

Souji removed his jacket. "I knew there was a reason why I felt like bringing this today…" he mumbled, while he carefully laid it around Yosuke's shoulders. "Does that hurt?"

"A little," Yosuke said. "I think I can get away with not putting my arms in the sleeves… it won't hurt as much that way."

Souji snorted as he buttoned the jacket up for him, starting at the top and working his way down. "You look like Kanji wearing your jacket like this."

"Shut up."

Yosuke playfully kicked Souji in the leg.

* * *

It certainly took a lot of reassurance, but Yosuke's father eventually caved, and allowed Yosuke to stay the night, provided that they would both come to pick up Yosuke's clothes and other supplies later in the day. ("Now I know where you get your paranoia from," Souji had added after they hung up.) Although Yosuke was relieved that he would get his wounds treated without much hassle, he resented having to hide the burns from his father for the next few months, an issue that he relayed to Souji, who simply brushed it off, saying that "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides, it's not like you run around the house bare-chested like Tarzan." To which, Yosuke replied, "You and your American movies."

Upon returning to Souji's house, Yosuke somehow found himself led into the cramped bathroom, the one that Souji shared with his family. Souji bent over the fading tub, turning only one of the faucets, which Yosuke, unfortunately, noticed was the cold one.

"What's with the look for?" Souji said absently, as he tested the water with his hand. "You treat burns with cold water, first and foremost. And considering they're such huge burns, you're gonna have to take a cold bath."

Yosuke tested the water with his toe. "Holy shit, a polar bear would freeze in that!"

Souji regarded him cheekily. "Deal. Unless you want all your skin peeling like a banana, you're going to get in there. Of course, I can always throw you in there myself!"

"I-I can handle it."

"I thought you would." Souji twisted the faucet again, the torrent of frigid water ending. "There. You only have to stay in there for about five minutes. I'll tell you when you're done, and then we can get the bandages."

Yosuke nodded, and Souji left. Tentatively, he removed his clothes, and stepped in. The chill shot up his leg, spine, and then his head, where it stayed, buzzing about his skull and rattling his teeth. Submerging himself in it was much, much worse. Spasms consumed his entire body. There was no _way _this could be tolerated for five minutes.

* * *

Not soon enough, a knock came to his door.

"Alright, torture's over. Get some pants on."

Yosuke shot out of the water and clumsily pulled his trousers back on. Although he had already been decent when the silver-haired boy entered holding a box of gauze under his arm, Yosuke was horrified to notice that Souji didn't even bother to check if he was ready when he did.

"Good Lord, knock first!"

"Hey, it's not like I'm gonna see anything I haven't already seen."

"What!"

"I'm a boy too, y'know!"

"Ugh, everything out of your mouth sounds just… _wrong._"

"Quit bitching and sit over here," Souji demanded, thumping an unsafe-looking children's stool he had pulled to the center of the washroom. Yosuke grudgingly obliged.

Souji then, as gently as he had when wiping away his tears what seemed like ages ago, applied the gauze to Yosuke's right arm. The boy with the brown mop on his head watched as the other dressed his injuries in a rotating motion, hand over hand, layer after layer. It was almost hypnotizing.

"Um, I can't keep doing this with you staring at me like this."  
Yosuke jerked his head away faster than he could get the words out of his mouth. "Oh, um, sorry."

Something felt very strange about Souji's presence, Yosuke deduced. It was a calming, safe feeling. Souji was strong, mentally and physically, and many other people probably felt the same way Yosuke did. Which probably explains all the admirers. Yosuke tensed a little at the thought.

"Hey, Yosuke-kun, you alright? You got all stiff all of a sudden," Souji enquired, a nearly undetectable tone of concern in his firm voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just thinking about stuff," Yosuke said, taking a deep breath and trying to loosen up.

"Well, you probably don't want to talk about it, so I'll leave you to it." Souji sighed, defeated.

With that, the conversation had ended on a note Yosuke wanted to avoid. _But I _do _want to talk about it._

Still, the burned boy couldn't help but smile, ever so slightly, once he remembered the care that Souji had demonstrated up until now. Plus, "Yosuke-kun" coming out of Souji's mouth seemed strangely fulfilling.

The rest of the bandaging went smoothly (and silently), and the quick visit to Yosuke's home was rather uneventful and commonplace (The awkward hello, the awkward parent trying to remain cordial with the equally awkward friend of the son, awkward silence, awkward questions, awkward awkwardness, etc.).

Souji had been preparing dinner for the two of them when Ryoutaro returned home. He seemed startled when he saw the quite un-Nanako-like Yosuke sitting in Nanako's usual spot. He seemed even _more _startled once he realized who it really was.

Yosuke blinked at him, and smiled rather forcefully. "Hello, Dojima-san."

Dojima blinked back. "Hello, Yosuke. Er, sorry, I was never really comfortable with those damn honorifics…"

Yosuke laughed artificially. "It's alright."

Souji didn't even bother to look up from his meal in progress when addressing Dojima. "Hey, Yosuke's staying over today, that okay with you?"

Dojima balked. Glancing at Yosuke occasionally, he said, "A-ah, well, I think that—oh, I guess there's no problem—well, ah—never mind—" he leaned over Souji's shoulder. "What're you making?" Yosuke had to wonder if every day at the Dojima's was like this.

Dinner passed uneventfully, just as the visit to Yosuke's house had. Of course, Ryoutaro's face always remained in a strange shade of red throughout the meal as he was silently excluded from Souji and Yosuke's conversation (occasionally looking at Yosuke with a look of morbid curiosity), but nothing very notable happened otherwise. After their meal, they returned upstairs, where Souji immediately hurled himself onto his couch and turned on the television.

"What's got you so excited?" Yosuke asked as he clicked the door shut, subconsciously doing so for Ryoutaro's sake.

"I just remembered one of my favorite movies is coming on now," Souji said breathlessly, fumbling with the remote, trying to get the buttons to work. "I thought you'd like it too."

A scene of the movie flickered to life onscreen—a strange looking, muscular boy with stark white hair was walking along a beaten road, a shorter, stockier, tan girl with long brown hair clutching his hand. They were blushing and beaming at each other, speaking softly about menial things, but Yosuke had the feeling that this sort of thing being shown at the start of a movie would only promise worse things to come.

And he was right, dammit.

He was an absolute wreck at the end. The boy with the white hair had underwent every trial imaginable, had met all sorts of oddball characters ("Who the hell has _blue hair_?" Yosuke had declared, causing Souji to display a certain level of hurt at Yosuke's apparent displeasure with the film) and teamed up with them to fight various disgusting monsters (usual fantasy fare, to be sure), faced his worst fears, fought in a war, and defeated a strange shape shifting golden bird-like creature who had possessed the king of a rival country, all in search of the brown-haired girl who had been kidnapped. Only to find out that she had been dead the whole time. And had changed into the dove that followed him throughout his adventures, and could not be changed back.

"What the hell!" Yosuke blurted through his tears. The credits scrolled onscreen in front of him, the small white letters melting into each other in his field of vision.  
Souji looked over to him. "Yosuke, you alright?"  
"No! I mean… what the fuck… He went through all that trouble and…"  
Souji ruffled his hair. "It's just a movie, it's okay…"

"Shut up…"

He wiped his eyes and looked at the screen. He noticed the names of the co-creators.

"Those two can go to hell! Leave it to a pair of girls to write shit like this…"

"Hey, take it easy, they're only doing their jobs. They made you cry, that's what they set out to do, right?"  
Yosuke sniffed. "Well, when you put it that way… I guess it was a good movie… sorta. Hey, I see those red eyes, you were crying too! Don't act so high and mighty!"

The two talked for a little while, discussing various events in the movie that they found inaccurate or just plain weird. As Souji tried to explain the bizarre and unclear setting of the story, Yosuke's mind began to wander once again. Besides the strange context of their conversations, and the often uneasy atmosphere that often accompanied their time together, Yosuke decided that he did, in fact, enjoy this sort of thing.

But something was bugging him. The Shadows… the murders… how would pleasant events like this continue if they had to take care of that as well? Besides, it was so dangerous. At any moment, Souji could…

"Earth to Yosuke," Souji iterated, snapping his fingers in front of Yosuke's slowly glazing brown eyes. "Hey, you've been weird lately. You keep putting off telling me. I… need to know."

Yosuke blinked, his eyes refocusing for the first time in quite a while. He leaned his head against the back of the sofa, staring up at Souji's stone features, trying to form the words. He noticed a slight crease on the bridge of his nose formed by Souji squinting, his eyes scanning Yosuke as if the answer were printed on his face in an incomprehensible language.

"I… can't exactly explain it. I'm sorry, I'll tell you later." Yosuke whispered. Souji closed his eyes in exasperation.  
"Fine… it's only been bothering me like what, all day?" He growled, not looking at Yosuke.

Yosuke's stomach tied itself up again. He hoarsely murmured an apology.

"Christ, look at the time," Souji said, desperate for a change of topic. Yosuke could tell that the digital clock still flashed at least four digits, which was normally too early for him to make a fuss over on a Saturday night. "We should probably head to bed… I don't know about you, but if I go to bed too late one night, it's harder to get to sleep the next…"  
Yosuke nodded briskly. He didn't want to, but for this situation, sleeping would be best.

Souji had resigned his futon to Yosuke for the night, and had taken to the couch instead, as promised. Not another word was spoken, and that fact alone kept Yosuke up that night, although he was horribly tired from the ordeal he had faced after school that day.

* * *

Much later into the sleepless evening, as Yosuke attempted to make himself comfortable, his arm touched something firm, apparently lodged somewhere under the futon; unfortunately it just so happened that whatever it was had aggravated one of his burns. Hissing, Yosuke edged away from it, when he remembered something. Wasn't Souji's stash under here…?

A grim interest suddenly stemmed in Yosuke's mind. That must have been what he was talking about. As though it were enchanted, Yosuke's arm slid quietly underneath the mattress. His fingertips touched something firm. _Yes!_

He grasped it, and pulled the object out from underneath the futon. He felt it in his hands. It was…

_A hardcover book? _Yosuke thought incredulously. _Kinda strange for hentai, but okay._

He lifted his other hand and stealthily snaked it into the bag spilling over on the floor beside him. Grasping the cold plastic of his cellular phone, he carefully pulled it out. He crammed his head under the covers, and flicked open the phone, providing him with pretty inadequate lighting. But even so, it was enough to make out the cover. It was written in English—despite taking it for years, Yosuke always struggled with the language, but in time, as he mouthed the words inaudibly, he could decipher it.

_New Hampshire: A Pulitzer-Prize Winning Collection of Poems, by Robert Frost. _

He felt a little disappointed. _THIS is his stash? Now I know why he didn't want anyone to know!_

Not satisfied, he flicked through the pages, almost tearing some in his fury. Maybe "poem" was also slang for porn in America or something.

He didn't find any. However, he miraculously landed on a poem that seemed to interest him, or rather, the beautiful illustrated picture did. He once again attempted to mouth the words to himself.

_Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,_ Yosuke read.

_Whose woods these are I think I know,  
His house is in the village though.  
He will not see me stopping here,  
To watch his woods fill up with snow._

_My little horse must think it queer,  
To stop without a farmhouse near,  
Between the woods and frozen lake,  
The darkest evening of the year._

_He gives his harness bells a shake,  
To ask if there is some mistake.  
The only other sound's the sweep,  
Of easy wind and downy flake._

_The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep,  
And miles to go before I sleep._

While most of the poem hardly made any sense to him, he seemed to connect with the last stanza. He read it over and over and over again, until his eyes burned, and his wrist cramped from holding the cell phone in such an awkward position. He stuffed the book back underneath the futon, and sleepily threw his cell phone back into the bag. That night, he dreamed of horse riding, snow, and a strange warm, comforting presence, always behind him.

* * *

Yosuke awoke the next morning with an odd sense of peace. He was easily able to spring out of Souji's futon, and, out of courtesy and just plain good spirits, he even straightened out the sheets and made sure his bag was packed and ready. Souji still slept, curled up into a painful position on the couch, a strange grimace plastered on his slumbering face.

Feeling guilty, Yosuke walked over to Souji, nudging his shoulder with his hand. Souji awoke with a start, his head jolting so quickly he nearly knocked Yosuke on his way up.

"Hey," Yosuke cooed, "Torture's over. The futon's free."

Souji mumbled in gratitude. Yosuke helped him up and guided him over to the futon, where Souji collapsed into his coma again. Yosuke pulled the heavy, checkered covers up to his neck, and went into the bathroom to change and brush his hair, which had become horribly matted from his anxious writhing the night before. He relished the stress' absence. The burns didn't even seem to hurt as much.

Once he had completed his tedious morning routine, he was surprised to see Souji sitting up, blinking at his surroundings. He noticed Yosuke as he entered.

"Hey," Souji croaked, "Any idea how I got here?"

Yosuke laughed. "You don't remember? I moved you there."

"Oh," Souji mumbled, rubbing an aching shoulder. "I thought I dreamed that."

Yosuke walked over, and then perched at the foot of the futon. Souji looked at him, not entirely sure what to say.

Yosuke saw his expression out of the corner of his eyes. He smiled, warmly. "I know what you wanna ask. I'm sorry I've been so weird. I guess I'm just worried… you know?"

"Worried?"

"Yeah. These past few times we've spent together… they're really nice. I know it doesn't seem like it, since I'm always bitching at you whenever we do something like this. But it is… and I don't want it to end."

"Why would it end?"  
"Because of the murders. I'm sure we're going to get in over our heads very soon, and we might not be able to spend any more time together… and that's what I was worried about. Does that answer the question you were going to ask?"

Souji chuckled. "I was actually gonna ask if your burns still hurt, but that works too. I'm glad it wasn't anything too serious, but… thinking about what you said, you're right. This might not last for much longer, so we've got to enjoy our time while we can."

"The thing is," Yosuke objected, "As much as I want to spend more time with you, our relationship will only get in the way. I want to put the mission first. We're not going to get anything done if we just spend all of our time worrying about each other."

"But Yosuke-!"

He was interrupted as Yosuke quickly strode to Souji, ignoring the slight pain in his arms and chest, slid to his knees beside him and wrapped his arms about Souji's neck, just as Souji had done in the lobby of Rise's club.

"Trust me on this. We made a promise to Teddy and everyone else, right?" Yosuke whispered into Souji's ear. The whole action made him turn a nice shade of scarlet.

"Right," Souji reluctantly admitted. He pressed his face into Yosuke's shoulder, and wrapped his arms around Yosuke's back and waist. "Just promise me that we go back to this when this is all over…"

"That was exactly what I was thinking, Souji-kun" Yosuke replied, smiling.

As they sat enjoying each other, the same phrase echoed in the recesses of their memory.

_The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep,  
And miles to go before I sleep._


	3. Comfort Zones

Haha, I'm finally bored enough to upload another chapter! Thank you so much for your positive input. By the time I wrote this, I knew more of the story, having played it about halfway through. Hopefully there will be fewer plot holes. I also attempted to give Souji more of a tangible humanity, but I think he still needs more enjoy this next installment of the collection, _Comfort Zones_.

* * *

_**Comfort Zones**_

_**

* * *

**_

Yosuke should have realized that things would never go back to the way they were. Things _never _went back to the way they were. The world is always changing. People are always changing. As a result, promises are almost never kept.

In fact, the only real thing that Yosuke could count on was being stuck at Junes, working his ass off, as he was currently doing. Yes, just as he had predicted six years ago in Morooka's class on that fateful morning, Yosuke ended up being employed by his father to work at the family store, with no chance of moving up in his career until his old man kicked the bucket and ownership fell to him. That was Yosuke's only assurance. Always having a stable, but tedious and unfulfilling job working under his father. Predictable.

He felt as though he was stupid for believing that things would go as planned after the TV world fiasco. _Of course it won't, _Yosuke's common sense sang to him during those trying months of the murders. _Do you really think something like this will result in a happy ending? Do you really think that you can keep your promise? _

_ Of course it will! _Yosuke's childish hope would retort. _Souji promised! I promised! Things will work out! We'll get to be together!_

Yosuke's common sense won that debate, obviously. Souji had to return to his immediate family in the city, and thus, the one thing that had been giving Yosuke relief, excitement, and hope had taken a train and hit the road. As such, life returned to normality. Predictable.

The only comforts Yosuke had left were his steady income, his music, his very own apartment, paid for by his father in exchange for his servitude, and _New Hampshire_, the book of poems, which Souji had left for Dojima to deliver to Yosuke as an apology. No note was attached. Predictable.

And Yosuke, being the little lovesick lover boy that he was, read that book every night like it was the Bible. Predictable.

Mindlessly restocking the shelves in one of the aisles of the electronics section of Junes, Yosuke felt as though he had nothing left to lose. His chances at college were blown, thanks to his absolutely gruesome grade point average he received in his last year—so he had no aspirations, at least none he could achieve. Souji was gone, and all his other friends had started on their own lives and simply didn't have time for him.

_At least I still have my headphones. Headphones can't break promises. Headphones can't abandon you. Headphones won't leave. _He repeated this mantra in his head as he carried on his asinine activity.

Well, he was wrong. In his zombie-like state, he failed to notice that his prized, ruby-red headphones were hanging quite precariously off the side of his neck. He bent over to pick up an SD card that he had dropped and, in one fell swoop, his headphones clattered noisily to the spotless white tile floor. Yosuke jerked as the unnaturally loud sound reached his ears. He looked down. The beautiful crimson casing cracked and crumbled, dotting the floor like blood. There, the device lay, broken and silent for good.

Yosuke's mind blanked. He bent to his knees and scooped the headphones up gently, as though it were a dying creature and that any wrong movement would cause it physical pain. He turned it over in his cold hands. The wire had been ripped out when it fell and he jumped. It was irreparable.

It was a final blow that Yosuke just couldn't stand. Insignificant, so it seemed, but it hurt. Frantic, he messily crammed the rest of the products onto the shelf, cradling his poor, shattered headphones in the crook of his arm. Finished with his job, he quickly marched away, only briefly mumbling an "excuse me" to a tall, well-built customer that Yosuke hadn't bothered to acknowledge as he brushed past him. He slumped into a plastic chair laid out for him behind the cash register. He held the busted headphones over the trash bin, but his fingers refused to release it. He quivered, angry with himself for being so reluctant to give up on something that was hopeless anyway. Checking for customers, and finding none, he vented his frustration by slamming the once cherished item into the garbage. Yosuke turned his chair in a huff and crossed his arms, effectively preventing himself from viewing the pathetic plastic thing poking out of the crumpled papers and food wrappers. He just noticed the lumbering, quirky Junes shopping music bouncing through the department store for the first time in months. He found it quite unfitting.

He sat there in a funk for a moment or two until a customer—presumably the same tall one that Yosuke bumped into before, but he was too pissed to even bother to look him in the eyes—placed an object on the glass display case in front of him.

"Excuse me," the man stated. His voice was firm and deep, but articulate and gentle. "I'd like to purchase this."

"Yes sir," Yosuke mechanically replied. He stood and kept his eyes firmly on the item in question, while reaching for the barcode reader. It was a set of headphones, Yosuke realized with a slight lurch in his stomach. They were stunning for a piece of machinery. They were a glistening, pearly white with a red spiral design on the cup that surrounds the ear, with a white bridge bearing red stripes. The suave packaging boasted an "amazing audio experience", and an unholy price tag. Yosuke gritted his teeth, but tried to calm down, using small talk to distract himself.

"So," Yosuke said, airily, as he tried to work the faulty barcode scanner, a thing he never really mastered. "Who's this for?"  
"Oh, a friend," the man said, happily and mischievously. "His headphones just recently broke, and he's pretty upset about it, as far as I can tell."

Confused, Yosuke finally forced himself to look at the person he was serving. His eyes, as though they already knew who it was, drifted slowly up to the customer's face. The man was smiling down at him in a familiar fashion, his stone eyes sparkling in good humor behind similarly smoky, orderly bangs that poked out of a mottled gray paperboy cap.

Not entirely grasping the situation, Yosuke stammered, "Th-that'll be three thousand o-one hundred and seventy f-five yen, Souji."

Souji smiled cheekily. "Well, I'm glad you recognize me."

Yosuke blinked, and, looking at him again, wondered how he actually _did _recognize him. Souji had changed so much in six years! He had practically shot up, now towering about two and a half inches over Yosuke. His face had sharpened and thinned, but not so much that it seemed unbecoming. His hair had grown out a little, but was still kept in impeccable order, even under his hat. Yosuke also noted the very obvious, um, muscle tone that Souji seemed to have developed in his absence, quite visible under the tight gray wool sweater and blue jeans that he was wearing. Souji looked very thin and lean, very attractive… nothing that Yosuke felt about himself.

"Um…" Yosuke said, inaudibly. He took a breath, attempting to gather his courage. "Well… that'll be three thousand one hundred and—"

"Oh, come on!" Souji laughed. "You probably have _something _to ask."

"I do, but first you need to pay for this, or I'm going to have to put this back." Yosuke declared, indicating the beautiful headphones lying upon the glass display case, forgotten in the exchange.

Souji, defeated, stuck his hand into his back pocket and retrieved a thick black leather wallet. Souji handed him the money, which far exceeded the amount required, much to Yosuke's chagrin.

"Thank you," Yosuke said dismissively. He ironed his eyes to the register, rapidly exchanging the money with the cash drawer.

Souji watched him with interest as Yosuke did his job. He certainly wasn't the youthful, enthusiastic boy that Souji used to know. Yosuke's eyes seemed dead and distant, unlike the warm and cheerful ones that Souji remembered so vividly. Souji could even make out faint shadows underneath them, unusual for Yosuke, who he recalled always looking energetic, no matter how much sleep he got. Instead of a usual contented smile on his face, Yosuke seemed to constantly wear a grimace. Although, it seemed like he hadn't changed too much over the years in the physical sense, at least. He seemed to have grown a tiny bit taller, but he retained the same painfully skinny body shape and facial structure. Yosuke had, however, let his hair grow out a few inches in the back, save for some short bangs he swept to the side of his face. In fact, he had pulled his hair back into a small ponytail that bobbed around madly as he quickly performed his task.

"Here you are," Yosuke announced, jarring Souji from his observations. He pressed the money into Souji's hand, which he had forcefully grabbed out of impatience. Souji pocketed it as Yosuke leaned forward on the counter on his elbows.

"So," he added, looking at the duffel bag slung over Souji's shoulder. "What'd you come back here for?"

"'Bout time you asked," Souji said with a smile, ignoring Yosuke's attitude, which he had learned to endure. "I've come back here to go to school."

"School?"

"Yup. I've come here to go to that tiny little university up in the mountains nearby."

Yosuke's stomach lurched again at the word _university. _He wasn't surprised, though—he always knew that Souji would go places in life.

"That place?" Yosuke snorted. He fetched a plastic bag from behind the counter, cramming the headphones into it and handing it absently to Souji. "I heard that place isn't that great. Really small, not a lot of courses to pick from…"

"How'd you know?" Souji asked, incredulous, as he took the bag.

"I applied there. Wouldn't you know it, even _they_ rejected my ass…"

"Oh… didn't do well, huh?"

"Not a chance." Yosuke chuckled grimly. "But it wouldn't have made a difference if I'd gotten one hundred percent on the university exams. Dad's got me enslaved."

"Really?" Souji said sympathetically, trying to quell the rising sense of guilt.

"Yeah. It doesn't matter to me, though…" Yosuke sighed, looking to the glass case housing the latest video games and computer programs, his head resting in his hand. "Dad got me an apartment nearby and he pays for it, plus he gives me a paycheck. That's as good as I can ask for."

Souji's chest started to ache. Yosuke sounded so empty to him. _It was a mistake to ever leave Inaba, _he thought, even though he already knew.

"How's everyone else doin'?" Souji asked, trying to offer Yosuke a distraction.

"Oh, I don't know. Haven't seen 'em in ages. Naoto's studying abroad, I think Rise went back on tour… Lord knows what Chie and Yukiko are doing. I think they skipped town… Oh, I see Kanji working at his parents' every so often when I pass by… I talk to him. He… hasn't been doing so well since Naoto took a hike."

"Oh, their shop's still holding up?" Souji inquired lightly, cursing himself for always picking the wrong questions to ask.

"Yup."

"… But you haven't heard from anyone else?"

"Nope." Yosuke smiled sadly, like he was inwardly mocking himself, still not meeting Souji's eyes. "They just don't have the time for me anymore."

Souji's heart felt like it was going to pull him through the floor. He wondered how things just got so hopeless for Yosuke after he left… and what might've happened if he hadn't come back until later. He twisted the plastic bag in his hands, itching to give him the present he had planned, but he felt as though it wouldn't be right, at least not now…

"So," Yosuke huffed, his misery lifting for the time being as he did from the counter. "Where are you stayin'?"

"Oh, I—…" Souji tried to search for an answer, but his mind just refused to function. His eyes drifted to some watches on display in the case in front of him.

Yosuke laughed glumly again. "Lemme guess, you didn't figure that much out?"

"I… no."

"Well…" Yosuke began. He bit his lip. "… If you don't have a place to stay, you could always stay at my place."

"N-no, I couldn't, your dad—"

"Nah, I insist," Yosuke said, grinning. This expression didn't seem as morose as the others, for whatever reasons. "My place is one of the closest to the mountains. It has a nice view of the woods, too…"

Yosuke's shift ended not long after that. Souji had been loitering in the employee lounge while Yosuke finished it—he somehow managed to sneak Souji in there without the others noticing. But, it was only a matter of time before Yosuke returned.

"Hey," Yosuke said breathlessly, making sure the door closed behind him. He carried a box underneath his arm. "Sorry that took a while, I had some last minute crap to handle… and I got you this." He tossed the box to Souji, who just barely caught it before one of the edges impaled his eye.

"A helmet?" Souji said, perplexed. He turned it over, and observed the text on the back, a falling sensation suddenly overtaking him. "A _motorcycle _helmet?"

"Yup," Yosuke sang, unfastening his apron. "You're gonna need it." He strode to his locker, swinging it open and taking out a pile of clothes. He slipped into a small booth in the back of the room.

"You _seriously _got the license?"

"Yeah!" Yosuke shouted. He hung the apron and work shirt over the door. "It took a few years and a couple of hospital visits, but I got it!"

Souji suddenly felt very ill…

"Oh, laugh, will you? That was a joke! I only needed ten stitches. Relax, you'll be fine." Yosuke reemerged, now dressed in a white long sleeved shirt, with a short-sleeved red-striped shirt over it. He walked over to a rack next to the door, where he removed a leather jacket and pulled it around his shoulders.

"Go on, try it on. I wanna see if I got the right size," Yosuke commanded, zipping up the black coat.

"C'mon, Yosuke, I think I can walk if you give me the address…"

"In this weather? Besides, it'll be faster, and I need to take it home anyway…"

Souji grunted in defeat, and struggled with the box before eventually getting it open. He removed his hat, placing it in his bag, and placed the helmet on his head. It miraculously fit. Yosuke turned around and observed, as he wrapped a faintly familiar red scarf around his neck.

"Ah, great, it fits, perfect," Yosuke reassured himself. "Well, let's get going, I'm sick of this place."

The two stepped out of Junes into the brisk winter air, trudging to the parking lot where Yosuke's motorbike rested, leaning uncomfortably close to the neighboring car. It was a used red Honda Gold Wing GL 1800, Souji gauged from the emblem on the side. Although it seemed very broken-in, it was still kept in very good shape—but Souji gulped when he noticed a huge gash at the head of the vehicle, painted over probably due to insufficient funds to repair it. He also debated whether the lack of a sidecar was a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, it was quite the beautiful machine, and obviously cost Yosuke a lot of time and money.

Yosuke threw his leg over the seat and planted himself firmly on it, trying to keep his balance since the thing was still looming to the side like the Tower of Pisa. He fastened his helmet, and then fiddled with the handles. The motors awakened, belching smoke and complaining loudly before finally settling into a comfortable (but still pretty deafening) hum. Yosuke glanced behind him in between checking the gauges.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get on!" Yosuke demanded over the cacophony. Souji warily slid into small space behind Yosuke in the uncomfortable rubber seat. He looked around, searching.

"What do I hold on to?" Souji called.

"Um, me I guess!" Yosuke replied. "Don't worry, it's safe!"  
Souji tried to ignore the slow sinking sensation in his stomach, and slowly wrapped his arms around Yosuke's abdomen, pressing his body to Yosuke's back. He felt the muscles on Yosuke's back tense momentarily, but he didn't seem to offer any objections.

"Alright… you ready?" Yosuke quietly asked, looking back at Souji, a small tint of red on his cheeks. Souji nodded, mentally outlining his last will and testament.

"Oh, um, be sure to put those in the trunk," Yosuke added, pointing to the plastic bag Souji had been wrestling with in his hands out of anxiety, and the duffel bag still hanging from Souji's shoulders. Souji frantically did so and then threw his arms back around Yosuke as if he were a lifeline. The brown-haired boy pushed the motorcycle backwards out of the cramped parking space, and then began to cruise back to the entrance—slowly, as Yosuke assumed that going any faster would make Souji have a heart attack. He slowly leaned to the right, and they were then gliding slowly down the empty, expansive road ahead of them.

Souji always had a kind of anxiety about vehicles—not just the ones that Yosuke drove rather haphazardly. Something about riding in them just made Souji nervous—which didn't help him with his earlier missions, considering the Velvet Room's location in a limo, the trains, buses, and cars he took to and fro back in the city, and the theme parks his metropolitan friends adored to take him to. He often considered himself stupid for being so afraid of those kinds of things when he's looked disgusting monsters dead in the face and had slain them himself. He always figured that at least he had a say in the matter if he fought a Shadow and was injured or killed; he had a weapon in his hands, after all, and at least he could die fighting. If he was in a car crash or some freak amusement park accident, there was nothing to be done about it. All he could do was submit.

Souji _hated _submitting. But that's all he had been doing for most of his life. He relished the leadership role he assumed during the murders—instead of being yanked around from town to town by his parents, constantly having to readjust to new surroundings and different people who he never truly got to know, now he was the one doing all of the pushing and prodding and moving and ordering. He hated to be controlling, of course—but he didn't stop himself from enjoying the power he could very easily exercise over his fellow teammates. Now _they _were the ones who would have to change and fit his needs.

A blast of cold air washed over the two of them, jarring Souji from his reflections and making him realize what he had been thinking. He felt disgusted. But, it was thanks to him submitting to his family that he returned home, and how Yosuke ended up so…

"We're almost home and you're still alive, so you can stop trying to snap me in half," Yosuke said, a smile in his voice. Hearing him talk like that calmed Souji down a bit, so he took this opportunity to lean his head forward against Yosuke's back and simply enjoy the scenery rushing by, conceding to Yosuke's concerns.

"Well, here we are," Yosuke breathed, turning the handle and throwing himself against the stubborn, warped wood door. "If only this—stupid—thing—would—"

"Need help?"

"No, no, I can handle—" The door finally surrendered, and Yosuke tripped inside. "Oh, there we go."

The room was a faded white with dark hardwood flooring, and was very cramped. Apparently, Yosuke's father didn't exactly like to splurge when it came to his son. Souji assumed that he purchased everything else in the room by himself—a worn, soft brown sofa, with a smudged glass table in front of it. There was a large television in a walnut entertainment system, with a collection of video games and movies behind the glass doors on each side, facing the sofa. To the right of the entertainment center was a beautiful, mocha-colored guitar sitting on a stand. Behind these was a large glass door. There was a kitchenette squeezed into corner next to Souji when he entered, the sink piled with dishes that Yosuke didn't have the drive to clean. Other than that, though, the rest of the living room was kept in acceptable order.

"You can sleep in my bed if you want," Yosuke said, removing his leather jacket. "I'll take the couch. It's pretty uncomfortable. The bed's a lot better."

"No, no, I'll take the couch, I'm the one mooching—"

"Seriously, take the bed. I know how hard it is for you to get to sleep." Yosuke hung the jacket and scarf on a hook in the bathroom, and then walked over to the sink, placing his helmet next to it. "Sorry about the mess, I'll deal with this now…"

Souji tried to ignore a hot rush of frustration at being resisted. He nodded.

"Where should I put this?" Souji said, lifting the duffel bag.

"Oh, just put it in the bedroom somewhere, I'll try to make a place for you in the closet. Oh, I'll take that for you." Yosuke took the helmet from him, placing it next to his. He then turned back to his washing.

"Thanks," Souji mumbled, and walked to the bedroom. It was scarcely furnished. There was a large double bed (why he had one, Souji would never guess), with a dark brown frame and red bedcovers. The one thing that caught Souji's interest while he set out the two bags he was carrying was sitting on the side table next to the bed was a book—_New Hampshire_.

Souji found himself pleasantly surprised. He picked up the book and sat on the stiff mattress. As he turned the small hardcover book in his hands, he noticed that the spine was worn from years of use. Souji flipped through the pages. Some were starting to fall out, some pages were ripped from being torn too fast… and one was dog-eared. _Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. _Souji smiled. He always loved that one too.

However, the smile melted when he noticed countless dark, wrinkled spots on the paper. That could only mean two things; he spilled something on it, or…

"Hey, where'd you go?" Yosuke leaned in the door, looking around before settling his gaze on Souji. "Oh, hey. Listen, I'm gonna order something for dinner, you want anything?"

Souji looked up at Yosuke, and his heart finally broke when he saw his sad, tired face forcing a grin.

"Yosuke…" Souji choked.

"Hey… what's the matter?"

Souji stood, book still open in hand. Yosuke noticed it, and his sympathetic expression rapidly changed to one of shame. He looked away, and slumped, trying to look smaller.

Souji held up the open book to Yosuke, pointing to the stained poem. "Yosuke, are these tear stains?"

"What does it matter?" Yosuke murmured, only occasionally looking directly at him.

"Why were you crying?" Souji asked, drawing closer to him. His face was set in stone, but it was growing harder to ignore the stinging that forebodes tears.

"You know why," Yosuke said, almost too quiet to hear.

Souji placed his hands on Yosuke's fidgeting shoulders. "Were you lonely?"

"No! I was mad because you didn't…" Yosuke drifted off, but then went right back to denying everything. "Why's it so shocking anyway? People cry all the time."

"So you were lonely," Souji asserted. Yosuke growled.

"Yeah, yeah, I was lonely! Happy?" he finally admitted, canceling Souji's grip as he tossed his arms skyward in a fit of desperation.

"Hell no!" Souji retorted, much harsher than he ever would have intended. The sudden noise silenced Yosuke once more.

Souji groaned. He stepped closer to Yosuke once again, pulling him into a rough, sudden embrace.

"You were mad because I left, right?"

Yosuke writhed in his hold. "Let go of me…"

"Wow, you love to beat around the bush, don't you?" Souji whispered sarcastically. "But, I know you're upset. I understand why … but I couldn't help that I had to leave, and I'm here now. Okay?"

Yosuke stopped squirming. "But you said that we'd…"

"I know what I said."

Yosuke sighed, aggravated.

"I didn't want to leave. I _never _wanted to leave. Do you think I like running around wherever my parents decide to go?"

Yosuke didn't have a retort this time.

"So, do you understand now?"

Souji loosened his grip so he could look at Yosuke's face. Yosuke was silent for a few moments, and then nodded wearily.

"Atta boy." Souji pulled him back into a hug again. It was a much softer, friendlier one. Yosuke slumped against his chest, and Souji rested his chin on Yosuke's head.

The truth was, Yosuke wanted to be mad, but he just couldn't. Sure, he was upset that Souji left, but he felt that he should be mad that he just shows up and acts all chummy towards him. But, now that he knew Souji would be staying for a while… he couldn't act mad anymore. He was just too happy. He smiled into Souji's sweater… and then cringed when he remembered how he acted at Junes.

"Hey, you cold?" Souji said, lifting his head. "You just shivered all of a sudden."

"Oh… no, I just remembered something," Yosuke assured. It felt like he was speaking for the first time in decades.

Souji laughed. "So, I guess you're ready to apologize for acting like a jerk?"

Yosuke scowled at him with half-lidded eyes. "Yes…"

Souji smirked at him. "Well, let's hear it. I want you to get on your knees and grovel."

"Fine…" Yosuke dropped to his knees. Souji was speechless.

"Dude, I was kidding!"

Yosuke was just about to bend over and clasp his hands together.

"…Oh… well, you suck, then."

Souji laughed again. "You haven't changed at all, have you?"

Yosuke frowned. "Not really…"

The comedic value vanished at that statement. "Oh, Yosuke, I didn't mean it like that…" He knelt in front of the smaller man. "I meant that you're just like the old Yosuke I know and love." Yosuke blinked, incredulous. "Only… there are a few things missing." Souji placed the little book of poems he'd been holding into Yosuke's lap, and stood up. He retrieved the plastic bag he'd tossed next to the duffel bag earlier, handing it to Yosuke.

"This is for you."

Yosuke gaped, but shut his mouth, not really finding anything to say. He took the gift, removing the box from the bag and gazing at the spectacular pair of headphones that Souji had purchased. He remembered what he had said it was for; _"A friend. His headphones just recently broke and he seems pretty upset about it." _Yosuke mentally slapped himself for not getting it earlier.

The headphones were beautiful, of course, but somehow, his old ones breaking just seemed so frivolous now. Nevertheless, he sat on the bed, grabbed a pair of scissors out of the side table and used them to open the box. Souji was seated next to him, watching him as he removed the device from its plastic cocoon. He held them up to the window opposite the two of them—they glistened, even in the pale gray light of the overcast sky.

Yosuke lowered the headphones, looking out upon the green sea of trees that wove around the mountains and hills, and the old high school the two used to attend so many years ago. "Do you think it might snow?"

"I dunno," Souji said, shrugging. "Certainly is cold enough to. Has it ever snowed here before?"

"Once or twice, at least as long as I've been here."

"Ah…"

Souji looked at the pair of headphones in Yosuke's lap. He slipped them around Yosuke's neck. Yosuke looked at him questioningly, an expression Souji was far too accustomed to. Still, seeing him have a look on his face other than anguished was very welcome. Besides, he was just so cute…

"Sorry," said Souji. "I'm just so used to seeing you with those on. Seeing you without them is just so strange."

"Really? Huh…" Yosuke turned his head back to the window. Souji followed suit.

"Listen, Yosuke… thanks for letting me stay here. It's really nice of you, especially considering the crap you've been going through lately. I really owe you a lot…"

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's the least I could do, considering all the times you've put up with my bitching."

"Still, I wanna pay you back somehow."

Yosuke turned and looked at Souji with a smile that made him very, very scared. "Oh, really?" He said, with an undeniable tone of mischief in his voice.

"Um… yeah." Souji replied. "Wh-what do you want me to do? I'll go wash the dishes if they still need to be, I can pay for dinner—"

Souji suddenly found himself being pinned to the mattress. Yosuke hung over the taller boy, grinning devilishly at the rare moment where Souji would be the one who would have to bend to him. Yosuke's face was so close to his, that Yosuke's messy brown bangs fell into Souji's face, tickling him.

"Forget all that, just… do this for me, okay?"

Yosuke leaned forward, catching Souji's lips in a very forceful kiss, and… well, the rest is history.

When Souji awoke, the first thing he thought of was how going to bed on an empty stomach after a very active night was one of the worst things you can do if you don't want to pay for it the next morning.

His stomach hurt like hell, and he simply felt like he didn't have the energy to get out of bed. But he had to; he had to find a job…

Complaints and concerns whirled around and about in his head, but, once he turned his head to the boy next to him, all of that simply faded away. Yosuke was still asleep; good thing too, since he hadn't been getting much sleep lately. His ponytail had been removed, so his long caramel-colored hair spread around his head like an imperfect halo on his pillow. With his eyes closed, you couldn't tell that this wasn't high-school-aged-Yosuke—he looked just as young and fresh-faced as he did six years ago. Souji couldn't help but smile. He lifted a hand and gently brushed some of Yosuke's adorable brown mop out of his face, being careful not to wake him. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world…

Yosuke's big, brown orbs flickered open. They rested on Souji, and, after waking up a little more, Yosuke smiled back at him. Souji moved his palm to Yosuke's cheek.

"Mornin'," Yosuke mumbled happily, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes. Souji noticed that they didn't seem cold and dead anymore; they seemed a lot brighter today. It was a great relief to him.

"Hey," Souji said, softly. He stroked Yosuke's face with his thumb. Souji felt his skin suddenly grow very warm under his hand. He reluctantly removed it, and sat up in bed—and immediately shot back down under the covers again.

"Jesus, it's so cold!" he cried, wrapping the blankets around himself.

"Huh?" Yosuke slurred, pushing himself up. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he too had retreated, scooting closer to Souji for warmth. "Damn, it is! It's never been this cold before!"

Souji felt his hair stand on end against the brisk air. He searched around the room for something to blame. "Christ on a—" His sight fell on the extending landscape outside their window, that was slowly being blanketed by fine, white snow, falling laggardly to the earth. Childish excitement sparkled in Souji's heart. He'd never seen snow before.

"Yosuke!" He giggled. "Yosuke, Yosuke, look! It's snowing!"

Addled by Souji's burst of energy (he was practically bouncing now), Yosuke obliged. He stuck close to Souji, still cold, and observed the rarely seen pale flakes drifting down from the morning sky. All Yosuke could say was "How pretty…"

What a poet.

Souji, wearing nothing but his boxers, threw off the bed sheets and bounded to the window. He pressed his fingers against the cold glass, and was surprised that they didn't freeze to the pane, like that kid's tongue and the pole in that Christmas movie he remembered seeing so long ago. His breath billowed out in clouds, settling on the glass. He heard Yosuke ruffle with the covers, trying to thaw himself.

"Souji, what the hell are you doing?" He asked, still sounding very fatigued.

"… Hey." Souji turned around, looking at Yosuke with pleading eyes, and trying to ignore the numbing in his limbs. "Do you… think we can go out into the woods before you go to Junes today?"

"Sure…" Yosuke said, trying not to sound too suspicious. "Why do you ask?"

Souji glanced at the book laying on the bedside table, next to the pair of headphones Yosuke left there for safekeeping. "I just wanted to see what the woods look like in winter, that's all."

Without really knowing how, Yosuke understood.

Souji, having thrown on some heavy clothing, realized that he was now being lead down to the place he didn't really want to go—the parking garage located underneath the apartment building. He probably should've been expecting that Yosuke would take him there via motorcycle, but he was hoping that he'd get there with his feet firmly planted on good ol' terra firma.

He sat with Yosuke as he revved up the bike's engines, clinging desperately to him as if making the wrong move would cause it to explode. His heart pounded in his chest. Yosuke seemed to notice, as he tried to bring up conversation.

"So," he said, feigning obliviousness. "What kinda job are you gonna get while you wait for the next exam term?"  
"Huh?" Souji sputtered, briefly opening one of his tightly closed eyes.

"You know, a job. To build up some money for Uni. Because, if you think I'm gonna hand you _my _paycheck, you are sadly mistaken."

"Oh… um, I never really thought that through."

Yosuke snickered. "So it's safe to guess that coming out here was pretty much a whim, huh?"

Souji nodded, rubbing his head against Yosuke's back.

"It's alright, I'm not gonna throw you off for it…" He coughed a little. "Oops… I guess I shouldn't have said that. Please don't choke me."

Yosuke kicked the vehicle out of its spot, weaved through the cars in the parking area, and they were once again on the open road. The wind was a ghost whistling in Souji's ears, warning him of his imminent demise caused by him accepting the ride…

"Souji," Yosuke said, shaking the snowflakes out of his goggles, "You alright back there?"

Everything sounded so far away… He felt the bike lean to the left, and his heart nearly fall out of his ribcage. He felt them rush past thick, tall things uncomfortably close to the two of them—he deduced they had reached the woods, and Yosuke was now taking a small path. He reluctantly opened one of his eyes again, and he saw huge brown trunks speckled with white slush and red berries zoom by, heard birds screaming as the snarl of the motors startled them from their homes as if it were some bloodthirsty predator—

_"Stop the bike!" _Souji finally wailed, his heart nearly bursting. Yosuke brought the bike to a halt, sliding several feet before staying motionless, the wet snow arching around the wheels like waves. Souji buried his face in Yosuke's jacket. His arms were starting to grow tired and weak from clutching him so hard.

Yosuke kicked the stand down, leaning the motorcycle to the side. Souji shuddered at the movement.

"Hey, hey…" Yosuke whispered, as Souji made soft cries, muffled by the leather. "C'mon now, don't cry… this is what you wanted to do, isn't it?"

His questions went unanswered. Yosuke looked about him, at the snow, at the forest, the thing that he drove that he often considered a steed, and most important of all, the shivering, shuddering, usually strong man, a warm presence at his back. It brought back faint images of a dream he once had. But, the familiarity brought him no solution to Souji's current dilemma.

"I'm sorry," Yosuke said, putting a hand on one of Souji's, which were still wrapped around Yosuke's stomach. "You don't like to ride these, huh? Why didn't you tell me?"

"B-because…" Souji sobbed, fully intending that as his entire answer.

"It's alright, you don't have to explain. Let's get off and sit down, okay?"

He felt Souji rub his face against his back again, this time intended as a nod. Souji released him momentarily, as Yosuke helped him off the motorcycle seat, guiding him to a nearby sakaki tree, Souji stumbling and shivering all the way. Yosuke sat him on a root, and plopped next to him in the snow.

"Alright, breathe, it's alright. You don't have to ride on it again."

Souji had stopped crying, but still shivered, and had trouble breathing. Yosuke rubbed his back, trying to soothe him.

Eventually, Souji calmed down, and leaned against the smooth, reddish-brown trunk of the tree. He looked into the broad-leaved canopy of the tree; the light green contrasting with the whites, blacks, and browns of the surrounding forest. Something stirred nearby; possibly a deer or some other animal.

"It's beautiful…" Souji finally murmured. Yosuke cautiously smiled.

"There… was it worth it?"

Souji smiled, but nonetheless, said "Hell no."

Yosuke laughed. The noise stood out starkly against the silence of the woods.

"Shut your face," Souji added, still smiling.

"I can't help it!" Yosuke snorted. "You still act like a smartass, rain or shine." The laughs died when he remembered how excited Souji looked back at their apartment, how he was usually the one doing the comforting, and how pale and shaky he was now, and how much he needed to be comforted.

"Say," Yosuke piped up. "What were you planning to take in college as a major anyway?"

Souji blinked at him. Yosuke looked down.

"Uh, I know it's a weird time to ask something like that, but I just never asked before."

"It's alright… um." Souji drifted off, looking around at the old trees that hung above them. "I didn't put much thought into it… but I was maybe thinking I could get into child psychology."

Yosuke marveled at him, unnoticed by Souji, who was still off in his own thoughts. Yosuke expected him to take up law enforcement, or something heroic like that. Child psychology? That was a new one. He knew Souji was good with kids, but…

"Really? Child psych?"

"What's so odd about it? I just thought that maybe I could understand things a little more if I took it." He smiled at Yosuke. "Hell, maybe I can help kids with anxieties like mine."

Grinning at him, Yosuke stood up, and reached his hand out to Souji. Souji grabbed it, and Yosuke pulled him up. He led him out of the forest.

"Yosuke, your bike—"

"Don't worry, I'll get it later. Nobody's gonna go looking to steal a motorcycle in the middle of the woods. I just wanna get you home before you freeze to death out here."

Even though Souji could very well walk on his own, he still didn't release Yosuke's hand, much to his pleasure. He squeezed it.

"Hey, maybe you could work at the daycare down the street."

"Huh?"

Yosuke turned his head back to him, still smiling, still leading him through the beaten path through the forest. He had been smiling so much that day his cheeks were beginning to hurt. "Remember the old daycare you used to work at part-time? Turns out they're still low on workers. And it's within walking distance!"

At that, Souji couldn't help but return the favor, smiling and squeezing his hand.

It took Yosuke about half an hour to get Souji home. By that time, Yosuke was already horribly late, so he didn't even bother to head to Junes. He put on his best sore throat impersonation and called in sick.

He trudged through the mud and the slush and the leaves back into the forest where they had ridden earlier that morning. After twenty minutes of walking, it became apparent that his prized steed was no longer there where he left it.

"Son of a bitch!" he groaned. He searched his pockets, and sure enough, he'd left his keys in the ignition. Somebody must have just jumped in the seat and taken off. He even saw tire tracks in the snow leading further in.

Even though he wanted to be furious, and he probably needed to be furious, he just couldn't work up the energy to give two shits. Somehow, he doubted he would be needing it anymore.


	4. Old Fashioned

_**Old Fashioned**_

_(A.K.A. The One I Pulled Out Of My Ass, or the Christmas Special)_

Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it?

Again, I wrote this story a _long_ time ago but never found the cajones to publish it. I realized today that "Oh, geez, I haven't updated that dumb collection in so long! My readers must hate me now."

So, here it is-the final installment of this... quadrilogy? Yeah. This is the last one in this timeline, but I'll be damned if it's the last Yosuke x Souji fic I ever write. I'm even starting one now! Haha!

Anyway, enjoy _Old Fashioned_.

~Peaches

* * *

Souji took a good, long breath, the brisk winter breeze filling his lungs and cooling his throat. He coughed a little. He could've sworn he inhaled a few snowflakes or something.

He smiled. Back in the city, he would've chalked it up to pollution. But not here, in Inaba. 

_I guess it's gonna snow again this year, _he thought, the idea adding yet another spring in his already enthusiastic step, the Suzuki dealership now more rapidly shrinking in the distance behind him.

It was a year that went surprisingly well, and Souji was almost sad to see it ending now. Souji had somehow squeaked by the exams besides hardly remembering the material, and now was getting the education he and Yosuke had panicked for months about. Yosuke was starting to give him real, honest-to-goodness smiles again, and they still tolerated living under the same roof besides having done so for almost a year now, which was an accomplishment for most couples, especially at their age; their "mooching anniversary", as Yosuke often sarcastically called the day that he officially moved in, was only a day away.

Souji's cheeks were starting to hurt thanks to his grin and perhaps the cold. He remembered that campy English song they usually played at this time of year, that mentioned Jack Frost nipping at your nose. He resisted the urge to yell "Hee-ho!"

He laughed at himself. He found it funny that memories of that difficult, serious time of his life still brought him fond memories, especially of the many… rather disturbing Persona he had adopted then. They were like children. Very creepy, violent, odd-looking children.

He sunk back into a dopey, absent smile. If there was anything working at the daycare taught him, it's that no matter how hard he tried to push it out of his mind, he'd wanted children. He deemed it rather unmanly to, but lately, being surrounded by kids and things about kids made him feel like having one around to fuck up the house wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe he missed Nanako and Shu or something.

His smile faded once he realized how ridiculous the idea was. For one, he hadn't even finished college yet, let alone got a decent job. The apartment was too small. He wasn't even sure if Yosuke wanted kids too. Hell, they didn't even have a really… formal agreement, at least anything beyond being lovers and housemates. Even if they did, it wouldn't be legal in Japan!

Souji groaned. He hated how his head worked sometimes. _Can't get my hopes up for a second…_

An unnaturally large snowflake landed on the tip of his nose and melted, jarring him from his thoughts with its cold bite. He couldn't help but grin again. Jack Frost was back to his old mischief.

Souji was immediately suspicious when he saw a trail of scattered pine needles leading up the stairs upon his return. His suspicions were confirmed when he tracked them straight to the door of their apartment, where they pooled around the entrance in an embarrassing omen of things to come. Preparing himself for the worst, he reached for the doorknob, unlocking it, turning the handle, pushing it… into a pile of something heavy and elastic. He stuck his head in around the door, trying not to look at anything else, and saw that the source of the blockage was a pile of green wire with an assortment of multicolored bulbs sprouting out of them like closed blossoms on an ivy vine. Christmas lights.

"Yosuke…" Souji groaned. "I thought you said we wouldn't get a Christmas tree this year!"

"I lied!" Yosuke huffed. Souji heard him fussing with something. Looking up, he saw that he was throttling a lopsided evergreen tree (positioned in a stand in the small space between the coffee table and the balcony door) with another segment of the lighted wire. Souji eyed a stray loop of lighting pulled dangerously taut around Yosuke's ankle. He quickly stepped up behind him, just in case.

"How the hell'd you get this up here?" Souji asked, incredulous.

"Well, I went out and bought it myself!" Yosuke proudly declared, working his fingers through a tightened knot that had somehow formed on the length he was messing with. "The guy who worked at the tent thing they sold it at helped me get it home, since we don't have a car…"

Souji felt a small pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. They haven't gotten a car or even a motorcycle since last year, since Yosuke didn't want to possibly aggravate Souji's vehicle anxiety. Even though Yosuke still could have gotten one for himself anyway, Souji still felt responsible.

"He went home, and I kinda forgot we had to go up about five flights of stairs… luckily the neighbor caught me and helped me get it up!"

"Oh, you mean the brown-haired guy, right?" Souji said, ignoring the tightening feeling in his throat.  
"Yeah, Kenji!" Yosuke said, smiling. "Turns out he's a real nice guy, once he shuts up about that one dude. What was his name?" Yosuke snapped his fingers as if the action would jog his memory. "Something with an H…"

"Well, you need help?"  
"If you wanna help, then sure!" Yosuke picked up a messy loop of wire. "Here, just take this one and—"

He pulled it as he turned around, unaware that the length he was pulling was the one that had snaked itself around his foot. He fell quickly, but Souji's quick reflexes and strong arms caught him before he hit the floor.

"Whoa!" Souji laughed, in a pitying sort of way. He lifted him up into a standing position, but still didn't release him. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Yosuke said. He was laughing as well, although he looked up at Souji with a look of shame. "Well, just, push me up and—"

Souji was startled by an unprecedented yelp of pain. Yosuke's eyes and teeth clenched. He leaned back into Souji's chest, hissing in distress. Souji searched for the offending source of pain, and found Yosuke's still ensnared foot pulled at an uncomfortable angle.

"Ow…" Yosuke groaned. Souji sighed. Still trying to support him, he helped Yosuke remove the wire. He then hoisted Yosuke into his arms and then tossed him, gently, onto the couch, if you can believe that. Souji bent over the injured ankle, carefully holding it, examining the small, quickly forming bruise.

"Looks like you sprained it," said Souji, bitter. Yosuke lowered his head on the arm of the sofa.

"Great," he declared. "Just great. Leave it to me to make an injury out of anything…"

Souji slipped a throw pillow under Yosuke's foot. He walked to the refrigerator, reaching into the freezer, bringing out ice, which he juggled in his hand.

"Take it easy…" Souji muttered condescendingly. He pulled out a plastic bag from a drawer that he jerked open, sealing the ice in it. He ripped another drawer open. "You're always getting hurt somehow…"

"Sorry…" Yosuke whispered, hoarse and laced with regret, as Souji returned to his side with the bag of ice and a small, thin rag. He wrapped the rag around Yosuke's ankle, laying the ice pack on top. He pressed it against the makeshift cast, Yosuke's foot flinching in pain. Souji was going to snap at him for it, but he bit his tongue, knowing that he'd just regret it later.

His job done, he crouched next to Yosuke, who hadn't looked at him. Souji took a deep, exasperated breath. "Oh, what am I gonna do with you…"

Yosuke's look of self-disgust intensified at those words. He whispered an apology again, turning his face further away.

Watching him, Souji remembered what Yosuke had been doing in order to get hurt, and what usually happens every other time Yosuke gets hurt. He knew that Souji wanted a Christmas tree this year. He was attacked by the Halberie and burned on a Souji-suggested mission seven years ago. The anxiety attack, well… that wasn't _entirely _Souji's fault, but it certainly didn't alleviate any of the returning guilt he was currently experiencing.

Souji felt as though the tension in the air was so thick, he felt it flow through his airways when he breathed, like molasses. Fighting through the fog, he reached out, and played with the brown bangs on the side of Yosuke's shameful face, which had grown even longer and more unruly over the years, but still felt soft and clean to the touch.

"Don't worry about it." He assured. "Thank you, Yosuke."

Yosuke looked at him, surprised, relieved. Souji hadn't thanked him in a long time.

Souji brushed aside the caramel strands framing his face, and lifted his head. He gave him a soft kiss, as if in gratitude.

He reluctantly pulled away, but still smiled, his unusually warm eyes squinting. "Careful," he said. "You're gonna melt the ice if you get much warmer."

"Shut up!" Yosuke sputtered, flustered but smiling, returning to burying his face in the back cushions of the sofa. Even after a year of similar (and many times more intimate) displays of affection, Yosuke still often blushed and giggled nervously like the high schooler he thought had died seven years ago.

"Hey!" Souji chastised playfully. "Watch the ankle! You knocked off the ice pack."

"It's your fault…" Yosuke replied in a tone of pretend accusation.

"Eh, guess you're right." Souji replaced the ice pack on Yosuke's injured foot. "Well, get better, okay?"

"Yeah, because I totally have magical powers and can make my foot repair itself," Yosuke snorted, unaware of the irony in his statement.

Souji gave Yosuke a good-humored tug of his ponytail. "Watch the attitude," he said, and pecked Yosuke on the cheek. He flushed again.  
"God, you're like a blast furnace. Who needs air conditioning when I've got you?" Souji said, picking up where Yosuke left off on decorating the tree.

"Uh, we do? You know how hot it gets in the summer!"

"Yeah, because you—" Souji trailed off. "Oh, forget it. I can't come up with anything."

"I win!" Yosuke cheered, throwing his fist into the air in victory.

"For now," Souji growled in faux contempt.

They laughed at themselves, in wonder of how they haven't grown up at all.

It was only a matter of time before Yosuke, doped up on painkillers and comfortably warm, had fallen asleep on the couch. Souji felt desperate to take him to the doctor, but afraid that he'd be the subject of another one of Yosuke's cranky tirades. He let him enjoy his nap for now, instead focusing his energy and brainpower into wiring the lights about the tree. He had come to understand why Yosuke had such trouble with it before. It wasn't because he was clumsy.

_It's because these lights are a load of ASS. _

Souji had nearly tripped himself a few times. The wire had a mind of its own. Souji suspected that it slithered about the floor when he wasn't looking. He also wondered if it enjoyed his pain.

Souji was unhappily interrupted from his cussing streak by the jarring screech of a telephone. Much the wiser from his experiences, he checked if his feet were caught in anything first, before rushing to answer it. Yosuke stirred, awakened by the noise.

"Hello?" Souji inquired breathlessly. The decorations reveled in his exhaustion, blinking mischievously in the cover of the tree's glossy green boughs.

"Hi," replied a gruff, familiar voice. "Is my son there?"

"Your son?"

"Yosuke, my son." Impatience quickened his words.

"Oh, um… hello, Hanamura-san. This is Seta Souji. You might remember me—"

"Yes, yes, I remember. Is Yosuke there?"

Souji looked over his shoulder, to Yosuke, who had been obviously very interested in the conversation. He rubbed his neck, still sore from his uncomfortable snooze.

"Yeah, but he can't exactly come to the phone right now…" The wire wouldn't extend that far.

Yosuke's father grunted. "Why not?"

"He's… hurt."

"I see." There was an uncomfortable silence. "Can you give him a message for me?"

"Of course," Souji piped, eager to please the man. Yosuke's ranting had made him infamous, so Souji decided that it was best to lay low, despite his qualms about serving others.

"Tell him that I wanna see him for Christmas… You should come too."

"A-alright."

"Thanks." Without another parting word, the line clicked.

Souji replaced the phone, feeling somehow anxious.

"That wasn't Dad, was it?"

"Sorry," Souji croaked.

"Aw, geez… I gotta go to work to fill in for some schlub, right?"

"No, no. He wants to see you for Christmas, whatever that means. And he wants me to come with… whatever that means."

Yosuke stared at him, blank, disbelieving. He blinked, then massaged his eyelids with his hands, as if his eyes had fallen out of his head and he had to screw them back in.

"S-something up?"

Yosuke dropped his hands, sighing, revealing his now pallid face. The Christmas lights blinked ever on. By optical illusion, the patterns seemed to be flashing by faster, perhaps being fueled by the tension now returning to the usually happy, if unorthodox, home. "Let's just say that Dad isn't the most accepting guy in the world."

Souji ignored this out of convenience for his sanity, stepping back to the phone, picking it up. "Let's get you to the doctor, Yosuke. You look bad."

Yosuke huffed. "Fine." He sounded an awful lot like his father when upset.

Due to the lack of vehicular transportation, Souji had to carry Yosuke on his back. They purposely took the back alleys and roads of the small town to avoid being seen. Not like they would, considering people were barely out in this cold weather anyway.

Yosuke snuggled into his red scarf, the tendrils of which flopped about at his sides as Souji slowly treaded through the accumulating snowflakes. It didn't really help him get any warmer, considering his injured foot hung bare in the winter chill. He flinched suddenly.

"You alright?" Souji asked. Yosuke felt his voice reverberate in his body.

"Yeah. Ankle just hurts."

"Ah. Don't worry, we're almost there."

They continued the journey for a few minutes in silence.

"You know," Souji suggested, "You could always say you're too busy to come."

"I _have _to go, Souji."

"You're making this more of a problem than it is…"

"Souji." Yosuke had raised his voice. "When Dad says I need come over, I need to come over."

"Why?" Souji replied, his voice becoming louder as well. "You're an adult. You don't have to bend to the whims of your parents anymore. You already work your ass off for him, so why do you need to do any more?"

"'Cuz I'm all he has, Souji." Yosuke said, hoarsely. "Mom's gone."

Souji opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't.

"She's not dead or anything," Yosuke added, subconsciously noticing Souji's discomfort. "She divorced him a while back. Five years ago, I think. Frankly, I can't remember, or really care."

"Oh…" Souji said, softly. "I'm sorry."

Yosuke chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I got over that a long time ago. Mom didn't really mean that much to me. I loved her, but…"

"You just couldn't work up the concern?"

"Yeah. The real victim here's Dad." Souji briefly paused to readjust Yosuke to a safer position on his back. "The minute she announced she was dumping him, she ran off with some good-looking jackass who had a nice car. Most of our family took her side. Dad never got another girl, at least one that wasn't in it for Junes.

"Honestly," Yosuke quietly continued, clinging closer to Souji. "I'm glad he didn't. Shows how much I've grown up."

Souji found that statement off-putting, but as he deliberated further in silence, he realized that Yosuke certainly had a lot of reasons to feel that way. Souji smiled wryly. The clinic began to draw into their view.

"After all that talk about how crappy your father is, how you wanted to stay away from him…"

He felt Yosuke tense up against his back.

"You really love your father, don't you?" Souji persisted.

"… Yes." Yosuke hesitantly responded. He groaned, and leaned his head against the back of Souji's. He relaxed, his burden gone with a simple word. "You know me _way _too well…"

Souji grinned lovingly. "Well, here we are." Souji stopped in front of the whitewashed clinic, with it's rain-faded painted sign. Yosuke looked up at it.

"Ugh, I hate doctors…"

"I know, I know, you've told me millions of times before."

"Well, how should we go in?" Yosuke inquired, casually.

"What do you mean?" Souji asked, caught off-guard. While they usually weren't very affectionate in public, Yosuke didn't really seem indicate an impulse to keep their relationship under wraps.

"Well, you know, since I'm on your back, and all…"

"I think we should go in just like this." Souji replied, his voice tinged with anger and hurt.

"Really?" Yosuke whined, as if he were assigned a chore.

"Yep. Don't worry, people aren't gonna stone us like you think they're gonna."

Souji very well understood Yosuke's reasons for self-consciousness and embarrassment, but Yosuke needed to realize that he needed to be open and unashamed of the bond they shared.

"Yes, dad," Yosuke grunted, rolling his eyes. As much as his tone made Souji want to drop him right there, he found the term of endearment to be unexpectedly satisfying.

"Alright, I need you to get the handle. I can't reach it…"

"But I might fall off!"

"Dude, you have three options. You could reach for the handle, I could drop your ass and do it myself, or we can stand out here like retards."

Yosuke decided to open the door.

The wide interior was jarringly well lit and white tiled, and the walls were painted in the sterile color of turquoise blue, making the building highly reminiscent of toothpaste.

_Please don't be here, _Souji repeated over and over again in his mind.

To Souji's dismay, a plump young woman sat behind the art-deco counter, her face pale and her glasses reflecting the computer monitor that she was currently training her face on.

A flash of recognition in his eyes, Yosuke chirruped, "Afternoon, Akiko-chan."

_Shit! _Souji mentally exclaimed.  
The woman looked up, her glasses now revealing warm, brown eyes that, along with her reddish-brown hair and freckles, very well accented her name. She smiled. "Back again so soon, Yosuke-kun?"

"Yeah…" Yosuke said, bashfully. Souji had just noticed how quiet the room was as he stepped forward to the desk. His hard snow boots clacked heavily on the tile, the noise ricocheting off of those oh-so-clean-and-friendly toothpaste walls and back into his ears at a near deafening volume.

"Geez, Yosuke-kun! This has to be the second visit in two months!" Akiko scolded in a saccharine tone. "I worry about you sometimes, you know?"

"Yeah," Souji said, laughing. "I worry about him all the—"

"I know," Akiko said quickly, sounding peeved, only barely glancing at him before returning her attention to Yosuke. Yosuke looked pained, but it was impossible to tell whether it was his ankle becoming irritated again, or the fact that their conversation had been echoing to everyone else in the waiting room. An old man was among the more distasteful. "Anyway, do you have an appointment?"

"Yes," Souji answered for him. "A last minute one, for—"

"I asked Yosuke" Akiko snapped.

"I made the appointment," Souji snarled back, unsure of what was making him so annoyed. Yosuke pinned closer to Souji's back as if he would melt into him and disappear. He was mortified.

However, the staring contest that Souji and Akiko were engaged in ended abruptly as a petit, middle-aged woman broke into a violent coughing fit in the lobby, distracting everyone from the heated exchange. The coughing fit only worsened thanks to the sudden interest.

Akiko, unnoticed by Yosuke or Souji, rolled her eyes. "Alright," she groaned, clicking randomly on the computer until something came up. "Go wait in room forty-two," she said, walking around the desk to attend to the still coughing woman. The two young men both thanked God for her suffering.

"So, Yosuke, back so soon?" The doctor said, peering at Yosuke's bare, injured foot in her aged hands.

"That's what everyone's sayin'—OW."

"Ookay, that's definitely sprained…" The doctor very gently released his ankle, and turned to the counter to scribble indecipherably on a chart while he whimpered. She was the kind of woman who was indescribable-the kind who was pretty in some ways and scary in others. Her face was well put together, only vaguely suggestive of wrinkles despite her age, but her lips seemed to be constantly pulled into an unreadable line no matter how lighthearted her dialogue. She had arms that reached out like oak, but moved gently like willow.

"Well, just be more careful now." Her dark eyes drifted to Souji, who was sitting contemplatively in the room with them. "After all, you do have someone else to worry about."

Souji awoke from his thoughts with a start upon hearing his name. He looked between Yosuke and the doctor; Yosuke was staring at the medicine cabinet with a sort of contented smirk on his face, which, of course, would make an apple look sickly in comparison.

"I missed something, didn't I?"

"Anyway," The doctor continued, completely aware that she ignored Souji, "I'm glad you came. I'll give you some crutches, and I want you to stay off of your ankle for a few weeks. Come back in January, and we'll see where we go from there." She checked the drawer. "Oh, geez… pardon me for a minute…" she leaned into the hallway. "Naoki! Could you bring me some gauze, please?"

* * *

"I still don't see why I had to carry you," Souji groaned, his body collapsing onto the sofa, which gave a squeal of pain. "You have your crutches."

"My arms got tired," Yosuke lied. "'Sides, I can't go up those narrow stairs…"

"Right," Souji breathed. "I'm guessing concrete was too much too?"

"Yup." Yosuke attempted to lower himself into the seat on the couch next to Souji, but ended up falling rather unceremoniously instead. He unwittingly crushed Souji's hand in the process. Souji yanked his hand from underneath him, sitting straight up on the couch.

"What the hell man!"

"S-sorry, I slipped!"

Souji sighed. "It's fine…"

He looked down to his poor hand, cursing Yosuke for not investing in softer cushions. But, he decided to look on the bright side of things for once.

"Least I copped a cheap feel."

A sharp jab from the left, and Souji was down.

"Okay, I deserved that," Souji said, rubbing his shoulder and sitting up again. "… We so need therapy. Ever notice how much we hurt each other?"

"I didn't mean to hit that hard, "Yosuke chuckled. "Happy almost anniversary, by the way."

* * *

It was mooching anniversary day, and neither Yosuke nor Souji had any idea of what to do for it.

Souji already had his gift-but was leaving it for Christmas, considering how it cost him an arm and a leg and Yosuke would skin him alive if it were a mere anniversary present. Still, he wanted to do _something. _

However, he was much better off than Yosuke, who was now pacing (as much as his crutch bound body would allow) the living room (working up a considerable sweat even though the temperature must have been no higher than forty degrees) while he slept.

_I guess it's gonna snow again this year, _Yosuke mused. _Lord, even the weather has a better gift for Souji than I do. _

He couldn't believe that the notion of gift shopping had eluded him for so long. He rattled off his options mentally. Going to the store would be pointless today, considering the proximity to Christmas and his limited mobility.

_Maybe I can make something? … No way. Can't even draw a stick figure… _

He settled into the overworked couch as softly as he could, leaning his pair of crutches against the wall to his left.

_ There's that song I made a while ago… no. No. Why would I even think that? No._

The sheer embarrassment caused him to physically cringe.

_It's terrible. I haven't even practiced it in months… It doesn't even have lyrics…Ugh, it's so cliché too! I'd look like such a douchebag… Ugh… Why did I even…?_

A simple "Mornin'," was all it took to snap Yosuke out of it. Regaining his focus, Yosuke saw Souji shuffling through the doorway, his normally flawless hair reduced to what looked like a long, thick patch of silvery crabgrass on his head. His oversized pajamas made him look uncharacteristically childlike, which wasn't helped by the fact that he was lazily rubbing his eyes with his cuffs and yawning.

"Oh, hey, Souj'." Yosuke softly said, a smile in his voice and face. If there was anything he was truly thankful for, it was the fact that Souji merely walking through the same space was enough to keep Yosuke's paranoid brain from self-destructing.

Souji grinned, and crawled clumsily onto the sofa, wrapping his arms around Yosuke's abdomen. Yosuke leaned back—careful to keep his ankle out of harm's way—resting his head and neck on the couch's arm. Souji laid his head against Yosuke's chest, shutting his eyes and listening to his breathing, his pulse. Souji was always this way in the morning; very unlike his usual stern self, instead becoming touchy-feely and, well, it was hard to describe. The closest thing Yosuke could compare it to was that he acted like a happy drunk. Perhaps all the sleep went to his head.

Still, Yosuke was quite used to it. He stroked Souji's gray mop, putting the other hand behind his own head in a gesture of contentment, staring up at the ceiling.

"Why'd you get up so early?" Souji suddenly asked, his words slurred by exhaustion. "You're off work …"

"I just had some stuff on my mind," Yosuke answered, quite truthfully.

"Like what?"

"Um…" Yosuke trailed off, his question unrehearsed, unlike usual. "It's our anniversary, and I haven't really gotten you anything…"

"It's fine," Souji yawned. "You're not getting yours 'till Christmas anyway."

"But still… is there anything you want?" Yosuke persisted, desperately.

_Kids, _Souji thought. "Nothing," Souji said.

"There has to be something!"

_I want kids! _Souji thought. "You could always play your guitar for me," Souji said.

_Just my luck, _Yosuke lamented.

"Oh, c'mon, you're never going to drop that, are you?"

"No," Souji laughed. "I haven't heard you play in months… Why'd you stop?"

"Didn't have a reason to play anymore," Yosuke said, shrugging.

"But, still, you're _really _good at it."

Yosuke sighed. Relenting, he started to push himself up, but Souji didn't let go.

"No, not yet, later." Souji said, simply. "I actually have something else to ask for, too." Souji's childlike voice was gone, now. He was very articulate.

"What is it?"

"Can you tell me… you think of Akiko?"

Yosuke was baffled. "Akiko? The chick at the clinic? What does she have to do with anything?"

He felt Souji's hands grab at his shirt and clench. "You didn't answer…"

His sudden mood swing suddenly made a whole lot of sense.

"Oh, come _on, _Souji, you're being silly!"

Souji rose to his hands and knees, staring at him. It was a kind of intensity that Yosuke had never seen before outside of the shadow world. How long had it been bugging him?

"Am I?" Souji finally said.

Yosuke was actually feeling intimidated. He knew Souji wouldn't deliberately hurt him, but his sharp features, far stronger body and piercing gaze were quite enough to unsettle anyone. Still, Yosuke could feel a very familiar insecurity in his words. Souji knew he was being ridiculous, but he'd be damned if he were told he were wrong.

"Y-yes," Yosuke heard himself say, horrified with his own gall. "Yes, you are." He repeated, his nerves beginning to ebb. Souji couldn't find anything to counter with, a true rarity.

"Souj', I barely _know_ the girl. She barely knows me either. Why would I like a girl I barely know?"

"I-I…" For once, Souji sounded helpless. He backed away into a sitting position.

"It's alright, Souji." Yosuke sat up, patting Souji's head. He laughed. "And you say _I'm _paranoid."

"I'm not a dog," Souji growled, staring at the coffee table as if it had insulted him.

"I'm just playing with you, relax!" Yosuke leaned back and picked up his crutches. "I'm gonna get my guitar, okay? That's what you wanted, right?"  
"Yeah. Wait, you can stay there, I'll get it for you."

As Souji slid to his feet, he concluded it was a good thing he resisted mentioning his desire for children. They already had kids to raise, and their names were Souji and Yosuke.

* * *

"You ready to go?" Souji called from the bedroom, pulling on a very thick jacket.

"Yeah, gimme a minute!" Yosuke replied from the bathroom, currently battling his hair with a brush. Souji looked on from the bathroom door.  
"Geez, you've been brushing your hair for a half hour now! It looks fine!"

"Fine!" Yosuke moaned, throwing his hairbrush into a drawer, glancing one last time in the mirror. His hair, which he desperately tried to smooth against his head, already had defiant bits that stood up no matter how much he tried to flatten them with his hand. Distraught and frustrated, he cursed his reflection. It returned the favor.

He grabbed his crutches and hobbled into the living room. Souji stood in the hall, making some last minute adjustments to his hat. As he passed the kitchen counter crammed into the corner next to the front door, a pair of headphones caught his eye-the same one Souji bought for him as a present a year ago. Even though his dad always mocked him for wearing his old red pair around the house, he decided to sling it around his neck anyway.

"Nervous?" Souji asked as he kicked the stubborn door into place so he could lock it.

"Was that a rhetorical question?" Yosuke snorted.

"Just relax, it'll be fine." Souji assured, attempting to yank the key from a reluctant hole.

"You remember what my dad's like, right?" Yosuke mumbled. They started their slow, suspenseful, forty-minute walk to Yosuke's old abode.

"Yeah, I do," Souji said. "Unfortunately," He added under his breath.

"Well, let's just get this over with."

"It could go well, you know."

"Key word there being _could_."

"What, is your dad a homophobe or something?"

"Yep. Well, he's never said it outright, but he's always saying stuff about "those fags"…"

Souji took a deep, long breath. He rubbed his forehead. "Ooooooh boy…"

"I told you he wasn't a very accepting man…"

"Now I see where you got it from…"

"Well, yeah." Yosuke chuckled. "I guess I was a bit of a prick about that sort of thing, huh? I should call Kanji sometime and apologize…"

Not satisfied with the abrupt change of subject, Souji asked, "What should we tell him…?"

Yosuke sighed. "I'll think of something."

He never did. They were standing before the Hanamura household before Yosuke came up with anything solid. They looked at each other pleadingly.

"Should we tell him, or no?" Souji said, hoarsely.

"I… I want to, kinda…" Yosuke said. This bewildered Souji, considering his actions at the clinic earlier. "But…"

"I understand," Souji said, rubbing Yosuke's shoulder. "I'll let you do what you want. If you want to, tell him. If you don't… doesn't matter to me. But we'll have to tell him sometime."

Yosuke looked at him, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. "Thank you…"

Helping Yosuke ease up the steps onto the porch, and, as if he were preparing to fight some horrible beast inside, Souji knocked on the door.

"Hold on a minute!" was a harsh cry from within. The beast hath awakened.

Souji took another deep breath, and tried to put on the most innocent, friendly look he could. Yosuke just tried to keep himself from hyperventilating, shifting around on his crutches to try to find the most comfortable position.

The door opened.

The man handling the door was a tall, burly one, with a thickly creased face and scant amounts of fuzz on his head, but as Yosuke could attest to, plenty everywhere else. This was obviously the product of a lifetime of stress. However, his face was clean shaven at least, and he seemed to be keeping himself in shape. But, besides the gruff scowl on his face and the threatening bulge of muscle on his arms, Souji noticed his caramel-colored hair and somehow warm brown eyes. He was Yosuke's father alright.

"Hi Dad," Yosuke croaked, forcing a smile.

His father looked the two of them up and down for two excruciating seconds.

"What the hell happened to your leg?" He finally said.

"Um, accident, heh…"

"What was it this time? Another motorcycle crash? I swear, I'm not gonna keep paying the insurance on that damn bike…"

Yosuke flinched, but his father didn't seem to notice.

"Um, nope, I had a little mishap with the Christmas tree…"

"You two actually got one 'a those? I can't be bothered with 'em."

"I know," Yosuke said submissively. His father moved aside, which they took as an invitation to come in.

"Take your shoes off. Or don't. I don't care."

Souji decided it'd be best to take his off anyway. He did so, and then bent over to help Yosuke with his shoes.

"Damn, those are some awfully tight jeans for a guy." Yosuke's father observed, cocking his head. Before Souji had a chance to really believe what he just heard, his father returned to the kitchen to look in the oven. He looked up to Yosuke for an answer, who gave him just as stupid a look as Souji was already wearing.

"So, uh, what're you making?" Yosuke asked, hopeful that this would start a mildly pleasant conversation.

"Ham, hopefully, if this piece of shit oven decides not to burn it."

"O-oh, um, sounds good!"

"Yeah, I guess. Well, take a seat. I've got somebody else coming over, so it'll be a while.

They quickly obeyed orders. After several more excruciating seconds, Mr. Hanamura joined them at the table.

"Are those new headphones?" Mr. Hanamura said, looking at the pair around Yosuke's neck.

"Oh, uh yeah! You see, the old ones kinda broke on the job—"

"I woulda just gotten you new ones, you know."

"I know, but Souji actually got these for me—"

"Speaking of which, what's up with you?" Mr. Hanamura said, staring harshly at Souji. "You haven't said anything at all today."

"U-um, sorry, I-"

"He's kinda shy…" Yosuke cut in.

"I can answer him, Yosuke."

"Sorry."

His father grunted. "Oh, yeah, I remember now. You were pretty shy. Didn't you come over some years ago?"

"Yeah, I did!"

"Yeah, definitely. You're the only teen with gray hair I've ever seen." He looked at Yosuke out of the corners of his eyes. "Except maybe Yosuke during his exams." Yosuke blushed.

Souji's teeth started to grate. He always had a soft spot about his hair color. "I'm twenty-two, actually—"

"You're still a teen to me," Mr. Hanamura said, dismissing him. Souji clenched his fists.

Yosuke noticed his discomfort. "So, um, what have you been up to lately, Dad?"

"I've started dating again."

"Oh, that's great!"

_What kind of woman would wanna date HIM? _Souji angrily thought. _A real masochist, that's for sure. I feel bad for her, whoever she is. No wonder his wife left him. Why the hell does Yosuke keep running back to—?_

"Who is it?" asked Yosuke, an interesting enough question to distract Souji from his brooding.

There was a cheerful knock at the door—banging out some well-known pattern.

"There. Took 'im long enough." Yosuke's father trudged to the door, opening it.

"Hideo!" came the cheerful greeting. Somebody flung himself or herself at Yosuke's father (who was, most likely, the owner of the name), who did not budge thanks to his tremendous strength. They hugged him around the neck.

"Me-ri-kuristu-masu!" They said, in a textbook case of broken English. Annoying as it was, Yosuke and Souji only noticed one thing; the voice was male.

"Hey, Shigeru," Hideo said, in a tone of warmness that Souji had never heard before. He leaned forward and, presumably, gave the man a kiss.

No words could describe the sheer awe that Yosuke and Souji experienced at that moment.

"Gosh, it smells so good in here!" Shigeru cheerfully exclaimed. He bounded into the living room, where Yosuke and Souji could see him. He was a short, well-groomed man, wearing a classy double-breasted jacket and dark-rimmed glasses, and appeared remarkably young for his age, which had to be at least in the forties. He looked around. "Wow, you didn't do anything with the place for Christmas? That's disappointing." He noticed the two young men at the dinner table, whose eyes were beginning to glaze over from shock.

"Oh! Is this your son?" Shigeru chirruped, striding over to Yosuke. He ruffled his hair, which Yosuke didn't object to. "Aww, he's just as handsome as you say he is! And he looks just like you too! Nice to meet you, Yosuke."

"Nice to meet you," Yosuke would have replied. What his reply really sounded like was more of a gargle than a pleasantry.

Undeterred, Shigeru moved to Souji. "Oh, you must be his roommate! Your hair is fantastic! How'd you get that color?"

"It's natural," Souji slurred.

"I can't believe it!" Shigeru laughed. Finally, something they could agree with. He took a seat at the table, sitting upright, crossing his arms and legs.

"So, um…" Yosuke finally said. "Are you and Hideo—um, Dad—are you?"

"Are we what?" Shigeru giggled. "Boyfriends? Well, Hideo would never admit it, but yes."

Hideo coughed in the kitchen.

"Is there a problem?" Shigeru innocently asked. Yosuke and Souji savagely shook their heads.

"No, not a problem at all!" Yosuke cried, shakily.

"Of course not, I mean, we're kinda—" Souji looked at Yosuke, as if for permission. Yosuke was too flustered to make a face. "I mean, Yosuke and I, we're—"

Hideo entered, a blackened ham on a tray in his gloved hands. "I always knew there was something up with you two." He placed it on the table. Shigeru did his best to look grateful for the food.

"…Then why didn't you _say _anything!" Yosuke cried, his voice high-pitched and overwhelmed with the force at which his emotions were progressing.

"Is there really anything to be said about it?" Hideo stated, simply.

* * *

The rest of the night went along pretty well. Shigeru did most of the talking, but nevertheless, his unending energy kept the night interesting and fun for everyone involved. It was late at night when Souji finally decided it was time to go home, since Yosuke actually had fallen asleep on the couch by then.

"Thanks for having us over, it was a lot of fun." Souji said, shaking Hideo's coarse hand.

"Don't mention it," Hideo grunted. Souji moved over to Yosuke, lightly nudging him until he woke up.

"Time to go," Souji whispered.

"Aww, really?" Yosuke yawned. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes.

"Say, you don't have a car, do you?" Shigeru asked.

"Oh, no, but we'll be fine—"

"Oh no you won't!" Shigeru moved to a window, drawing the curtains to show snow, heavily falling from the dark sky. "I won't have you walking back there in _that _weather! I'll drive you home."

"No, Shigeru, really, thanks but—"

"No buts! You're coming with me."

"Um, Shigeru…" Hideo interjected. "Don't you think you've had too much to drink…?"

"Relax, I've got a high tolerance!" Shigeru assured.

After telling him where they lived, Souji had guided Yosuke into Shigeru's small, expensive-looking car, where he promptly fell asleep on Souji's shoulder in the backseat.

Shigeru saw them when he adjusted the rear-view mirror. He smiled. "Yosuke-kun really seems to like you."

"Yeah…" Souji quietly and happily agreed, looking down at Yosuke's brown head leaning against him.

"Say, you look a little pale, you alright back there?"

"O-oh, I'm just a little weird about cars, buses, stuff like that…"

"Oh, that's strange." Hideo began to back out of the driveway. Souji caught a glimpse of Hideo standing in the window, watching over them as they left.

"I know Hideo may seem kinda rude," Shigeru suddenly said, "But he is a nice man. You just have to get to know him better."

"I'll say," Souji said, his tone tinged with a bit of sarcasm.

"No, really. He's done an innumerable amount of things for me. He actually bought this car for me after my old one was wrecked by vandals…."

"Really?" Souji said, wholly astonished.

"Yep! He's very generous." Shigeru chuckled. "Just out of curiosity, do you ever notice any of that in Yosuke?"

"Yes, actually," Souji mused.

Shigeru giggled. "I knew they were similar."

Yosuke was pleasantly surprised when he woke up that morning to find it being Christmas Day, and the night before not just some crazy dream. He was quite relieved to find the situation had ended on a happy note, but it didn't make it any less disturbing.

Yosuke sat up and stretched, finding the bed unusually empty. Souji was gone.

_Where would he be on CHRISTMAS?_

Nevertheless, he saw Souji's phone sitting abandoned on the dresser, so he couldn't call him. He must have stepped out for the laundry…

He decided that he might as well get ready to start the day. He picked up his hairbrush and commenced his daily war with The Brown Monster, then hobbled out into the living room.

He looked over at the Christmas tree. They had somehow managed to defeat the lights and arrange the small amount of ornaments they had in the days after their mooching anniversary. He seemed to inherit Souji's contempt for inanimate objects.

"Yeah, that's right, Christmas lights. We _owned _you." He said, feeling haughty and not the least bit silly. At least until Souji stepped in.

"… What are you talking to?"

"Oh, um, nothing." Yosuke said. The lights blinked mischievously, most likely finding delight in Yosuke's embarrassment. There is no joy like schadenfreude.

"Oh, um, okay. Anyway, I have a surprise for you. Come on, get your coat and shoes."

"What? I have to go _outside _for it?"

"Yeah, I can't exactly get something like that up the stairs…"

Yosuke narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion. "You didn't spend a lot of money… did you?"

"Just come on!" Souji demanded, masking his terror in impatience. He rushed Yosuke while he dressed, then, finally bending to his excitement, actually carried Yosuke down the stairs.

"Goddamn, Souji!" Yosuke cried. "Are you on speed!"

"Nope, just excited!" Souji said, breathlessly. There was a distinct lack of people in the halls in lobby—most likely too busy getting a few extra hours of sleep.

Souji jogged down the stairs as fast and as safely as he could, and rounded a corner into more stairs—they were in the garage before Yosuke could wrap his mind around what was happening.

"Oooh no," Yosuke said, shaking his head. "You didn't."

"I did."

Souji stopped in front of a parking space. There, sat a beautiful, brand new, cherry-red Suzuki GS5500.

"Dammit! You bastard! How'd you know I wanted this!" Yosuke demanded, pounding him playfully on the head.

"Boyfriend's intuition?" Souji laughed, wincing.

"I told you not to spend too much money on me!"

"Well, too bad! You needed one anyway."

"Well, I did, but—dammit, I feel guilty now!"

"Don't be! I did this because I wanted to. I thought you'd like it."

"Well, I do, but—dammit, it's perfect! Thank you. I only wish I could ride it now…"

Souji laughed again, carrying him back up the stairs. "Just be patient. We can ride it as soon as you heal up."

"Okay…" Yosuke said, whining like a child. He rested his head against Souji's back in a familiar gesture.

"Souji?"

"Hm?"

"I love you, you bastard."


	5. Zen and the Art of Practical Neurosis

_**Zen and the Art of Practical Neurosis**_

Thank you so much, you guys, for all your support and feedback. I didn't really think that this crappy little collection would really interest people, but I'm very glad that it has.

The past four installments were like babies to me. It was something I wrote simply because I loved doing it, and I'm glad that other people have as much invested in it as I did.

So, I've decided to keep the collection going just a bit longer. I have a few miscellaneous, unrelated stories that I've written up over the years, that don't trace back to the overarching storyline that I've established in the last four stories. They were rotting on my hard drive, so... I figured that I might as well share it with all of you.

This one was... a bit bizarre for me. I tried playing around with different kinds of Souji. This one definitely isn't the flat, calm Souji I've been writing for the past four chapters. He sn't even remotely similar to the Souji established in either the comic or the dialogue choices in the game. If anything, this iteration of Souji was based on a very close friend of mine, a young, feisty, and fearful kind of guy that tends to jump to aggressive conclusions but has a good heart and sense of humor besides. I claim artistic license! I'm sorry if this isn't the Souji you enjoy reading. Just bear in mind that he is _intentionally _OOC, and that Souji in-game is meant to reflect the player anyway and has no true set personality.

Please excuse the run-on sentences. I was experimenting with a kind of narration that has more in common with a teenager telling a story to a friend than a narrator relating a story to a reader. I hope it isn't too confusing, and I pray it doesn't rape the grammatical side of your brain.

**_TL;DR? This story is weird. Enjoy!_**

~Peaches

* * *

_It's official_, I think. _I'm finally paranoid_.

I adjust my glasses (which had been sliding down my nose all damn afternoon thanks to the sweat and were becoming a real fucking nuisance) just for a distraction from the slow, agonizing torture of feeling like you were being watched. Ever been in the bathroom late at night and you're too afraid of seeing the Blair Witch or something waiting for you in the tub if you look in the mirror so you keep your eyes shut and haul ass out of there as soon as you finish washing your hands? It felt like that. Only there was no warm bed to return to and thick sheets to hide under. Only fog. And a metric assload of steam.

Shut up, real men get scared and talk about it freely. You're just jealous.

I frantically look around the walls for something, anything, but find nothing. At least a Shadow would be an excuse for me being such a pussy. Leader's senses and all that. But no, nothing. Nothing but Yosuke and Yukiko. I had at least expected Yukiko pick up on the bad vibes, but she was furiously fanning her glistening face with her gaudy little fan, totally immersed in looking miserable. Her hair, dripping from the humidity, didn't move an inch. It was kind of scary.

Yosuke, on the other hand, had somehow found the bed of coals in the center of the room highly fascinating. He held his hands behind his back, tightly clasped together, his foot tapping to the beat of his own personal soundtrack. He certainly seemed relaxed. His kunai lay untouched in the belt loops of his trousers. His highly _expensive _kunai, I might add. I wanted to call him out for not thanking me for them or at least _using _them right there, but I was too afraid inhaling any more steam would cause me respiratory failure. Besides, he was probably blasting some shitty song in his ears. I doubted he could hear me. You can't hear anything over Bump of Chicken, a lesson I learned through trial and error.

He notices me. He slides his headphones off, still clutching them with the intention of putting them back on, like some model would in an advertisement for Sony.

"Something up, partner?" He asks. I see him blink innocently from behind the mist gathering on his orange spectacles.

I realize I've been staring at him long enough for it to become nice and awkward. I also realize that being called 'partner' is just as disconcerting as feeling like you're being watched.

"You feel that?" I ask, totally prepared for the "WHAT WHAT HUH WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT" that would inevitably ensue. Which indeed did ensue.

"Um, if you're talking about the heat, then-"

"You don't feel it then," I declare. We shuffle ever on.

Don't you hate it when you realize that you've been feeling normal for the past few minutes for once and then when you think about it, it comes back? 'Cuz I sure do. Before I knew it, my skin began to prickle and crawl again, just after feeling some semblance of relief. I couldn't walk fast enough. Even speedy little chicken-legged Yosuke had to jog to keep up, and he literally does laps around me in physical education.

I stop. Yukiko bumps into me. I mumble what sort of sounds like "sorry," and carry out my neurotic survey.

Zilch, as usual. I groan, and we continue our journey. The paranoia is stubborn and refuses to leave, despite assurances that _nothing is there._

Somehow, Teddie contacts me from outside the… Bad Bad Bathhouse.

"Sensei? You all right? I can smell your fear, even through the steam…"

"What are you talking about?" I half-screech. The hysteria amplifies my emotions. "I'm not scared!"

"Whatever you say, Sensei…" He says, that stupid giggly cocky tone in his voice.

"Good riddance," I growl through harshly clenched teeth. I wonder if he was the one who was making me so freaked out. Maybe the fact that I knew that a furry Big Brother was constantly watching me did things to my psyche. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the fact that every so often the "intercom" would click on and Kanji would giggle about how good the gross service he's experiencing at the hands of the Hulk Hoganites feels.

_Yes, that makes sense, _I assure myself, sounding more and more like a normality-desperate schizophrenic every minute. All I needed was to be rocking back in forth in fetal position while wringing my hands and the illusion would be completed. _It's like Chinese water torture. Yeah. That's it. _

This does nothing. My heart thumps faster and faster, beating against my lungs, my ribcage, my head…

_I'm going insane_, I thought. I had to do something about it.

My instinct instructed me to turn around _fast_. And I did. Faster than I've ever done anything in my _life. _I know this because my brain still kept spinning around in my skull when I stopped and made me stumble and sway.

There was my proverbial Big Brother. And it sure as Hell wasn't Teddie.

Yosuke was staring _right at me. _ He was rather close to me, too. Like, noses almost touching close. Unmanly close. The kind that calls for resounding cries of "no homo".

"Um," Yosuke sputtered, unable to look away, but desperately wanting to. "Are you alright, partner? You're shaking like a… leaf."

"Were you watching me? _This whole time?" _I hissed. I was indeed shaking like a leaf, but I didn't bother with confirming this.

"No! No, I wasn't watching you, I…"

"Ooooh," I object, "Ye-he-HES, you were. I know," I continue, shaking my finger like the kind of lunatic you see regularly in sitcoms. "I know, because I've felt it this whole time. _The whole fucking time._ Just _staring. _"

In my peripheral vision, I see Yukiko clutch her precious fan to her chest defensively.

"I… can't help it." He admits. I am livid.

"Really? I guess that makes you a stalker. C'mon, Mark David Chapman." I lift my arms in the typical testosterone-crazed tough-guy fashion. "I'll plant a restraining order on your _face._"

And he just laughs. _Laughs. _Like a goddamn _hyena. _So much that he has to flop on his knees to keep himself from falling over.

"What's so fucking _funny?_" I demand, grabbing him by the collar. I lift him up and hold him closely, trying to make myself scary, as a lizard would make itself bigger to appear threatening.

"Plant a restraining order on my face? _Really_? That's the _best _you could come up with?" He squeals, tears running down his face, his body consumed in spasms of hilarity.

To everyone's misfortune, this got Yukiko involved in the festival of guffaws. Yosuke covers his face, as if closing himself off from the situation would calm him down any.

At this, my mouth twitches. My chest heaves. My eyes squeeze shut. Soon, I'm laughing right along with them.

I drop Yosuke so suddenly he falls on his ass. It doesn't stop him. I tried to wipe the tears from my face, but they just flowed harder and harder as I laughed and laughed. The built up stress melted from my shoulders as they shook in fits of giggles.

Once we had calmed down a little, I helped Yosuke to his feet. He was still wobbly, and an occasional hiccup of a laugh would still escape. Yukiko was still going strong, but followed us anyway, clutching her stomach. Yosuke started up again soon after, and leaned on my shoulder to keep himself steady, snorting into my jacket.

"So, why were you staring at me again?" I asked, still grinning like the fool I had made myself out to be.

"Like I said, I couldn't help it," Yosuke said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "You're just… interesting, I guess. I wanna see what's going on in that head of yours."

Even though I still feel rather silly, this catches my attention and distracts me. I look down at him, as my neurotic heart began to pound again. He is nervous, red creeping across the bridge of his nose, but he smiles so warmly, so kindly, I feel so strange…

And then I laugh.

His glasses are crooked.


End file.
